Black and Blue
by Purupuss
Summary: Black days and Blue days for International Rescue *Complete*
1. Prologue

Hi everyone.  
  
I finished this story about three years ago. It's nearly novel length, but as nobody from Carlton has got in contact with me to say that they'd like me to write a Thunderbirds book and make lots of money, I guess you guys may as well enjoy it.  
  
Because some chapters are quite long I've reduced them to 'bite sized pieces', but retained their original chapter headings.  
  
Oh, well. All that remains is to reiterate that apart from those who belong to Carlton, all characters belong to me. And to apologise to Wellington for destroying it!  
  
Thunderbirds are go!  
  
Happy Reading  
  
VTOL  
  
Purupuss  
******  
Prologue  
  
A lazy breeze danced around the palm trees. A pair of gulls squabbled over a morsel of fish and then flapped away lazily over the ocean. The waves lapped the white sands. Overhead the blue sky was devoid of clouds.  
  
The pool was still. There was no one diving in, practising their swimming strokes or lazing by its turquoise edge.   
  
The steps leading up into the house were almost blinding white as the midday sun reflected off them, but there was no one about to be dazzled by them.  
  
All was calm.  
  
Inside the house, Jeff Tracy sat at his usual place at the desk that occupied one side of the room. He was oblivious to the marbled floors, the oriental art works and the momentos of his years as an astronaut. His attention was totally taken up by the facsimile spread out before him. On the far side of the world members of his brainchild, International Rescue, were saving the lives of others, and the facsimile showed him what troubles they were up against.  
  
It was a big rescue. They had needed all their speed and skill to ensure that the trapped victims were rescued alive.   
  
The team had been gone for nearly 59 hours and last reports had indicated that the job was nearly over. Scott had been brimming with confidence when he'd reported in last time.   
  
"Only one small group to go, Dad. We should have them out within an hour with minimal trouble."  
  
Jeff smiled at the memory and looked at his watch. The hour was nearly gone, he should be hearing from them soon...  
  
A beeping sound from the row of portraits of his five sons caused him to look up.   
  
John, Scott, Virgil, Alan and Gordon. He briefly noted how smart they all looked in their blue International Rescue uniforms and the thought that his wife, Lucille, would have been proud of them flashed through his mind. One pair of eyes was flashing in time with the beeps. With no sense of urgency he answered their call.  
  
"Go ahead, son."  
  
The flashing eyes disappeared to be replaced by a video image of the man.   
  
Jeff had been expecting, at best the broad smile of a job well done, or at worst a worried frown that signalled that the job would take longer than anticipated.  
  
Jeff was not prepared for the image before him.  
  
His son's face was pale beneath the grime that had been collecting for the last 59 hours. The eyes were bewildered and uncomprehending. Shock and disbelief were the emotions that etched the handsome face.  
  
Jeff saw not the face of a confident young man, but that of the little boy that he used to take on his knee and reassure after a particularly bad dream.  
  
Only this was no dream, this was reality, and what reality was bad enough to have such an impact on such a strong person.  
  
Various scenarios jostled for Jeff's attention and one particularly sombre one kept coming to the fore. It couldn't possibly be that one. Could it?  
  
He had to find out.  
  
Jeff was the first to find his voice. "What's wrong son?"  
  
The face in the picture frame opened and closed it's mouth a few times, but no words came out. The figure took a deep breath, steeled himself and said the words, those words that Jeff did not want to hear, the words that he had dreaded hearing, the words that he knew must be coming.  
  
"We've got a problem..." A long pause. "He's dead, Dad."  
  
Those three words chased out all the scenarios except THAT one, which had turned into cold hard fact.  
  
Dead? A member of the team was dead? They had all known that it was a possibility when they had started this venture. They had all gone into it with their eyes wide open. They'd known the risks and reasoned that when it came to saving the lives of others, the risks were not too great.  
  
Jeff closed his eyes to steady his nerves, when he opened them again he saw that his knuckles were white from where they had gripped the desk. "A death grip" he thought tightly and then realised that he was missing one important bit of information. Information that would banish all hope that this WAS somehow a dream, information that he had to know but did not want to know.  
  
With an effort he voiced the question in the form of one word. One simple word, but one full of meaning.  
  
"Who?"  
  
The eyes were uncomprehending again, clearly the boy was fighting with his own emotions. The eyes glanced down and then were raised to face his father again. At the same time a hand came into view in the screen and Jeff saw the answer to the question.  
  
It was a piece of uniform. Of course, all members of International Rescue wore the same distinctive blue uniform but each wore one item that marked them out as individuals. The sash - colour coded for each operative. Scott's was pale blue, Virgil's yellow, John's mauve, Gordon's orange, Alan's off-white and even Brains had a brown one for when he took part in missions.  
  
The sash in the quivering hand told Jeff instantly what he hadn't wanted to know.   
  
At that moment Jeff's mother walked into the room. "Have you seen my..." she started to say and then stopped when she saw his face. It was as white as the sun bleached steps at the front of the house.  
  
"Mother, you'd better sit down..." It didn't seem to be his voice yet there was no one else who could have said it. "There's been an accident."  
  
She glanced at the row of portraits and at once knew what the outcome of that accident had been.  
  
She sank into a chair with a sound, half sigh, half moan. "Oh Jeff, not..."  
  
He nodded, his mind a confusion of thoughts, mentally preparing what would need to be done.  
  
They had all talked about the prospect that one of them could be killed on a mission, even joked about it. Their training had included how to react and what arrangements must be made should a comrade fall while on duty. Yet, somehow, none of them had really believed that it would happen.  
  
Deep in the bowels of the complex, there was a safe. The safe contained the usual accruements that would be expected of a multi-millionaire. Stocks, shares, deeds, titles, items of value...  
  
The safe also contained the wills and funeral arrangements of each member of International Rescue. One of the last things each operative, throughout the world, had done, before officially signing up with International Rescue, was decide what should happen to their earthly remains, should the worst happen.  
  
Jeff imagined himself opening the safe and retrieving the files he had hoped would lay undisturbed during his lifetime. He had no idea what any of those files held. Even his five sons had refrained from discussing what their final wishes would be, as if they were frightened that to mention the existence of these files would somehow make them a necessity.   
  
For one International Rescue member his file would now be opened.  
  
How could this happen, why did this happen, when did it start... 


	2. Beginnings 1

*Ah I've got you wondering haven't I............*  
  
*****  
  
Beginnings 1  
  
"Okay, listen up." Jeff surveyed the members of his team assembled before him.   
  
Scott, Virgil, Gordon, Tin-Tin, Brains, Kyrano, and Grandma were all waiting for his next pronouncement which would send International Rescue flying around the globe.  
  
"As you heard John say," Jeff nodded at the video picture of his oldest son, beamed down from onboard the space satellite, Thunderbird Five, "There's been an earthquake which has caused a landslide in Wellington, New Zealand. Buildings have collapsed and people are trapped. The local rescue services need our help.  
  
"Scott you fly out there right away and get as much information from the authorities as you can." He didn't wait for his son's reply before he was issuing his next instructions. "Virgil! You and Gordon had better take Pod Five with the 'Mole'. Take any other equipment you may need..."  
  
Brains interrupted "I-I-it's reclaimed land on the waterfront." He stammered. "Many buildings will have s-s-sunk into the ground."  
  
Virgil was already heading to the painting of the rocket that served as the gateway to the mighty Thunderbird Two. "Thanks for that info, Brains." He said as he turned back to face them, his back against the painting. He flicked an invisible switch and his feet tilted up to be higher than his head, before he slid headfirst onto the hidden conveyor belt.  
  
Jeff looked at his watch. "I wish Alan was here, but he's going to be arriving back from Thunderbird Five too late to help out.   
  
"Brains you had better go, they may need an extra pair of hands."  
  
Brains stood up. "F.A.B M-Mr Tracy".  
  
*****  
  
Wellington was being hit by a cold southerly wind. A particularly vicious blast hit Thunderbird One just as Scott was opening its' retractable wings for his final descent. He briefly fought to regain control of his craft and then touched down in the grounds of the National Museum. A sign carrying the words "Te Papa", and an image of a fingerprint proudly proclaimed the buildings identity. From where Scott sat at the controls of Thunderbird One he could see no visible damage to the building, he knew though that other buildings had not been so lucky.  
  
A police van was drawing up beside him and he descended to greet the officers inside. As he emerged from the shelter provided by Thunderbird One's hull he felt the sudden chill of the wind. He made a mental note to grab a jacket before he set up Mobile Control.  
  
"International Rescue..." two female officers were walking towards Scott, the more senior had her hand outstretched. "I'm Superintendent Hally. Thanks for coming to help. You've no idea of the relief that was felt when we heard that your team was coming." She paused. "Ah, there are others?"  
  
Scott smiled "Yep. I'm here to establish a base and liaise with the local authorities. Our rescue craft is on its way now." He looked at his watch. "It should be here in about 10 minutes. If you could give me a hand with my equipment and show me where I can put it, we can start getting our side of things underway."  
  
The two police officers assisted Scott with the Mobile Control and helped him load it into the van. They then drove the short distance to the Civil Defence base in a nearby warehouse. By the time the gear was set up Thunderbird Two was reporting in.  
  
"Thunderbird Two to Mobile Control, Thunderbird Two to Mobile Control" Virgil's voice came sailing out of a speaker mounted on the main control unit. Scott flicked a switch and Virgil's face appeared on the monitor.  
  
"Go ahead Thunderbird Two."  
  
"I'm one and one half minutes away from danger zone. Where do you want me to land?"  
  
Scott consulted a map of Wellington's waterfront displayed on another monitor. Deciding on the best place he pointed to it. Up in Thunderbird Two the same image was visible on a monitor to Virgil's left. An orange dot was showed where Scott was pointing.  
  
Gordon looking over Virgil's shoulder pointed too. "If you veer right 2 degrees, we should be there" he said. Virgil nodded his understanding and made the appropriate adjustments to his flight path.  
  
"We can see Thunderbird One now," he told Scott's image. "Am coming down beside."  
  
The Superintendent and her assistant heard this announcement. "Are they going to need assistance with their equipment?" Superintendent Hally asked.  
  
Scott shook his head. "No thanks. The only help we should need is for you to tell us where you want us to act and of course I don't need to tell you how vital it is that a guard is posted to ensure that no one gets near our craft."  
  
Superintendent Hally smiled, "Of course." She took out a notebook. "We need your help initially in two places. There is a collapsed building on Jervois Quay. It's an office block and reports say that at least ten people are trapped inside."  
  
"The earth's given way and the buildings subsided into the ground. The walls that remain standing are very unstable and we can't get close enough to shore them up. We wouldn't hold any hope for any survivors except that a passer-by heard voices.  
  
"There is also a landslide that has buried several factories, in the foothills of the city. We have people digging, but we have no way of knowing how many people were trapped and are still alive."  
  
Scott turned back to the console. "Right! That gives us something to go on with." He returned his attention back to the communication monitor. "Virgil!"  
  
Virgil's face reappeared on the screen. "Yes Scott?"  
  
"Proceed to Jervois Quay", the orange dot moved to the appropriate location. "You can drop off Gordon and the Mole and then carry on to this location," the map and orange dot moved, "and assist with the rescue there."  
  
"F.A.B".  
  
*****  
  
Fifty hours later Virgil eased his way between the slabs of concrete that lay shattered on the ground, or propped up against other slabs of concrete. The scene reminded him of a collapsed house of cards. Occasionally he paused to daub a marking on a landmark. After many hours of tiring work he didn't want to get lost in this maze!  
  
His slimline pack was coated in concrete dust and he snagged it as he skirted some rubble. The super strong material held firm and did not rip.  
  
The muffled sound of a voice told him that he was nearing his goal. He reported this information back to Mobile Control. "Nearly there Scott. I think I can hear them."  
  
His brother responded slowly "Understood".  
  
Virgil frowned. Scott didn't sound 100% right. "You okay Scott?"   
  
"Yeah I'm fine," he didn't sound fine, "don' worry about me, worry about what you're doin'"  
  
The words were slightly slurred, but Virgil decided that he was not in a position to do anything about it. He knew that Scott was in the same room as medical personnel. They were in a better situation to help if needed.  
  
The voice behind the wall had stopped as if it was listening, so Virgil shouted to give some encouragement. "This is INTERNATIONAL RESCUE. Can you hear me?"  
  
"Yes, yes" was the excited reply. "We can hear you."  
  
"Hang on, I'll be with you shortly."  
  
Shortly turned out to be half and hour as Virgil carefully cut his way through the last obstacles to those trapped.  
  
It was two men. One had clearly suffered a blow to the head and lay on the dusty floor in semi-consciousness. A makeshift bandage bound his head and blood had seeped through. The same type of cloth was supporting his neck. The other knelt beside him, shirtless. Virgil didn't need to guess what the bandage had been made out of.  
  
The shirtless one greeted Virgil with a big grin. "Strewth, International Rescue, great to see you. We certainly need your help," he bent over his companion. "It's all right mate, you'll be safe soon."  
  
Virgil pulled a silver thermal blanket from a pocket in his pack. He quickly unfolded it and laid it over the injured man speaking as he did so. "How long has he been like this?"  
  
The other man frowned as he formulated his reply. "Since the earthquake. He was standing on a box when it hit and he fell against this concrete wall." He indicated the wall at his side. There was a smear of blood. "It was like a slow motion movie. I saw him fall and saw his neck bend at an alarming angle. I couldn't do a thing to stop him. I thought there was a possibility of a neck injury so I wrapped my shirt around his neck to minimise any movement. He's alternated between thrashing around and lying still, and I didn't want him to do any more damage than he's done already. Apart from that his pulse and breathing appear to be stable."  
  
"Glad to hear it." Virgil was attaching a 'Vital Signs Monitor' to his patient's chest. He then flicked on his intercom. "Virgil to Mobil Control. Have reached object. Two male victims. One okay." He cast a questioning eye to his companion, who nodded in agreement. "Other has head injury and possible cervical injury. Have attached 'VSM', am starting signal now." He started the 'VSM's' transmission.  
  
There was no reply.  
  
"Scott," Virgil was worried, "are you receiving me?"  
  
There was a crackle of static and Scott's voice came floating over the airwaves. "Sorry Virg. I'd dropped the mike. Can you move the injured?"  
  
"Negative" Virgil didn't remind Scott that it was dangerous to move anyone with a head or neck injury. "Scott, can you put me through to Brains or Gordon?"  
  
"Put you through?" Scott sounded confused.  
  
"Yeah Scott, I need to talk to Gordon or..."  
  
Another voice cut in over the airwaves. "This is Superintendent Hally. Can you hear me?"  
  
Virgil fairly shouted into the intercom. "What's happened to Scott?"  
  
"He's passed out, a medical team is checking him out now."  
  
"Right. Thanks." Virgil paused to gather his thoughts. "Look there's a button marked four on the top right of the control panel..."  
  
"It's not lit."  
  
"That's okay. Can you push it and then push the button marked two. That will put me on a direct link with one of our other operatives. If you need to communicate with any of us push button two again and you'll be talking to me."  
  
"Right! I'm pushing the buttons now."  
  
"Virgil calling Gordon, can you read me."  
  
"Loud and clear Virg. What's up."  
  
"Scott's collapsed..."  
  
"What..."  
  
"Don't worry, he's being looked after, I'm more worried about this guy I'm with now. He's got neck and head injuries and we can't get him out the way I came in. The only way we can move him is to lift him through the roof. You're going to have to use Thunderbird Two to remove a section of the roof and lower a stretcher down to us. Is Brains available to help."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"He'll have to be lowered with the stretcher. Can you get that organised straight away?"  
  
"Yep. I'm with him now. We're heading for Thunderbird Two. See you soon."  
  
Virgil signed off and smiled at his shirtless companion. "Are you warm enough? I've got another of these blankets if you need it."  
  
The man smiled back. "She'll be right. It's the middle of summer and it's the coolest I've been all season." He frowned. "How're you going to get the roof off without everything crashing down on us?"  
  
"Cut a hole and lower a stretcher through." Virgil was occupied tending to his patient. "Now to let them know where to find us..." He started a location beacon. 


	3. Beginnings 2

So you think it's poor Scott...?  
  
Beginnings 2  
  
Gordon was seated at the controls of Thunderbird Two. "This is a bit different to Thunderbird Four." He said to himself.  
  
"A-any p-problems?" Brains queried.  
  
"Nope. Just re-familiarising myself." Gordon's tone was light. "Here we go." A flick of a switch, and the craft shook as its vertical jets were ignited. Gordon gently eased a lever forward and Thunderbird Two rose gently off the ground. "There we go," he said, "no sweat."  
  
The signal from Virgil's locator beacon was beeping from the dashboard of Thunderbird Two. Gordon flew until the plane was directly overhead the signal. "We're in position." He informed Brains.  
  
"Right." Brains zeroed in on the signal and pushed a button. Six suction cups sped out from Thunderbird Two's undercarriage and affixed themselves to the roof of the building below. Adjusting the tension of the connecting cables, Brains ensured that the roof would not collapse onto those below. He then lowered a drill, which bit into the roofing structure and disappeared into the building.  
  
Two of the men in the room below looked up when a sprinkle of dust fell onto them from the ceiling above. Virgil smiled when he recognised the drill bit. "Well" he said, "we're on our way out." He resumed his examination of the injured man. "You've done such a good job on that neck brace," he said, "that I don't want to replace it until we have to move him."  
  
His companion smiled at the complement. "I've done a bit of first aid in my time."  
  
"It shows. Any time I'm needing first aid, I'm calling on you."  
  
Above them the drill had retracted and a new tool had appeared. It poked out of the hole and then divided into fifty arms. Each arm radiated out from its central point and attached itself to the ceiling.  
  
"That'll stop the roof coming down onto us as they drill out a hole big enough to lift our friend through."  
  
The building was rattled by an aftershock and both men protected the patient from falling debris with their bodies. When the rumbling had stopped they sat up again and brushed dust from their clothing.  
  
"I guess you guys are used to this."  
  
Virgil smiled "Not really. You're never 100% sure whether or not another big quake is going to hit. You always have at the back of your mind that you might get trapped. It keeps you on your toes."  
  
"How long do you think they will take?"  
  
"It depends. If the roof starts disintegrating they'll have to slow down."  
  
"Well let's hope the roof holds."   
  
Both men looked skywards.  
  
Up in Thunderbird Two Brains was echoing the sentiment. "I hope the r-roof holds so we can get through to them in a hurry."  
  
Gordon agreed. "How does it look so far?"  
  
"F-fine, so far the structure s-seems solid." Below them a drill with a diameter of three metres was grinding its way into the building.  
  
"Hold it Brains." Gordon had detected a wind shift. He feathered the controls and brought Thunderbird Two back into position. "The wind's picking up. Okay you can start again."   
  
"I-I think I-I can safely speed the drill up."  
  
"Great. Do it."  
  
The drill bit doubled its speed.  
  
*****  
  
In the temporary hospital set up beside the Civil Defence Headquarters, Superintendent Hally had taken it upon herself to ensure that Scott was being looked after. She was seated outside the examination room into which he'd been taken. She stood up rapidly when the doctor exited the room. "Well?"  
  
"He's got a bad case of influenza. How long has he been in the country?"  
  
"About 53 hours."  
  
"This particular strain manifests itself after 24 hours, so he was infected after arriving in New Zealand."  
  
Superintendent Hally sighed. "International Rescue voluntarily offer to help us, and in return we give them the 'flu. I don't call that a fair deal."  
  
"I guess they regard it as just part of the job. The work they do there's always a chance that something will happen to them. He's just lucky that it's nothing worse. I'd hate to be the one to tell the world that something serious had happened to a member of International Rescue."  
  
"How long till he's back on his feet?"  
  
"It usually takes a week to get over it, my guess is that he won't be taking any further part in this rescue."  
  
Superintendent Hally thanked the doctor and went back to the control room. She hesitated in front of Mobile Control then picked up the microphone and pushed the number two. It lit up.  
  
Virgil was alerted by a beeping noise coming from his intercom. "Go ahead."  
  
"This is Superintendent Hally. Just thought you'd like to know that your associate is going to be alright."  
  
"Glad to hear it." Gordon was listening in on the conversation. "What's wrong with him?"  
  
"He's contracted a case of influenza. The doctor says that he'll be laid up for a week and going by the members of the force who've suffered from it, I'll have to agree with him."  
  
"Not to worry," Virgil assured her. "As soon as we've finished helping out here, we'll take him home for some T.L.C. Thanks for letting us know."  
  
Superintendent Hally signed off.  
  
Virgil's companion gave a low whistle. "That flu really hits you hard. Some firms have had to close their doors until they've got enough staff who are fit enough to continue on with their jobs. It's so contagious that there have been reports of people contracting it from passing bits of paper, although I'm sure that is an exaggeration.  
  
"You start out by feeling nauseous and light-headed and then you lose all your energy. Some people have found that they haven't the strength to raise their arms."  
  
Virgil looked at him. "That's going to be interesting. Scott immobilised. He's going to go stir crazy."  
  
A grinding sound above them told them that the large drill had bitten through. The fifty arms retracted until they supported the plug only. The drill continued to push through until fifty arms of its own were able to slide out and support the remaining roof. The plug was then withdrawn from the structure. The hot sun slipped into the room and cast its rays onto the three men.  
  
Up in Thunderbird Two, Brains was undertaking the difficult job of negotiating the plug between the support wires of the drill. That done he buckled himself into a harness and spoke into his intercom. "Lower m-me away, Gordon."  
  
"F.A.B."  
  
Swaying in the breeze Brains was lowered toward the hole he had just bored, giving Gordon instructions as he did so. The stretcher was caught in the breeze and he started to rotate dizzyingly. He activated a small jetpack and his rotation was counteracted. The stretcher continued to swing however and he had received several bruises by the time he'd negotiated the hole.  
  
Virgil greeted him with a big smile. "Good of you to drop in."  
  
The International Rescue members busied themselves with immobilising the injured man. That done they transferred him to the stretcher.   
  
Virgil stood slowly, easing out the kinks in his body that had developed over the last hour. "You'd better take him Brains, we'll head out the way I came." He unhooked a spare helmet from Brains' harness and gave it to the shirtless man. "Sorry we can't supply you with any other clothing."  
  
Brains concurred, "G-good idea. T-the wind's getting quite blustery. I d-don't think we'll be able to make more than one air lift."  
  
"Well you'd better get moving." Virgil assisted his colleague back into the harness. "We'll meet you back at Thunderbird One."  
  
Brains spoke into his intercom. "Brains to T-thunderbird Two. Lift away."  
  
A reply of "F.A.B." and Brains and the injured man were disappearing back through the hole in the ceiling.  
  
Virgil looked at his companion, "Are you going to be able to walk out okay."  
  
The man smiled. "Sure, no sweat."  
  
Virgil led the way to the 'exit'. "If you feel like stopping for any reason, just let me know."  
  
One of Wellington's famous winds was whistling above the hole in the roof. Brains was bashed against the concrete structure as soon as he and his charge emerged from the comparative calm of the building. Grimly he hung onto the stretcher to prevent the patient from being knocked about too much. A particularly strong gust of wind grabbed at the helpless pair and spun them in a dizzying spiral. Caught unawares Brain's face snapped into the cable that connected them to Thunderbird Two's bulk. The impact sent his glasses flying and he was unable to stop them falling back to the ground below.   
  
Stifling a mild curse he spoke into his intercom. "G-Gordon, I'm going to n-need your help getting back into Thunderbird T-Two."  
  
"What's the problem, Brains?"  
  
"I've lost my sp-pectacles. I-I can't see a thing."  
  
"Don't worry, I'll put Thunderbird Two into automatic hover and come back and give you a hand."  
  
Gordon found his associate still dangling from the harness. He quickly unhooked the patient and then undid Brains' harness. "If you can wait there Brains, I'll see to this guy and then come back to you."  
  
"I-I should have a spare pair of spect-tacles in the locker above my workstation."  
  
"No sweat, be back with them soon."  
  
Gordon made sure that the patient was comfortable in the first aid room and attached him to the on-board V.S.M. The patient seemed stable so he quickly went through to Brains' workstation. Opening the locker he found an assortment of weird and wonderful tools, but no glasses. Frantically he opened other cupboards but no luck. He rejoined Brains, still standing where he left him.  
  
"Sorry Brains, I can't find them anywhere. You sure that's where they'd be?"  
  
"T-they should be there. Where-else could they be?"  
  
"Look, we've got to get that guy to hospital straight away. I'll get you into the first aid room and you can at least listen to the audio nurse and hear if there's any complications. We'll find your glasses after." He grabbed Brains' arm and guided him in the correct direction.  
  
*****  
  
The route back through the rubble was even harder than Virgil had thought. Several times they had to assist each other up over a slab of concrete. It was slow going. They stopped for a breather. Virgil turned to his companion. "You okay? You're getting a bit scratched there."  
  
The other held up his arms, which were caked in dust and bleeding in places. "Nothing which a good wash and a few band aids won't fix."  
  
They had just started off again when the ground heaved into life. Virgil's companion was thrown forward against Virgil, who was in turn knocked against a wall. As Virgil braced himself he saw a concrete slab come toppling towards him. Instinctively he raised his hand to protect himself.... 


	4. Dilemma 1

Hi everyone  
  
Sorry I wasn't able to upload another chapter last night - I was too busy killing off Virgil.  
  
Oops - now I've let my wicked plan slip. I was going to make all of you think Virgil's dead so I can whisk him away and he'll be mine - ALL MINE!!!!  
  
Actually I was at the ballet.  
  
So to find out what happens next - and to who...  
  
Read on.  
  
Purupuss  
  
*****  
  
Dilemma 1  
  
Gordon had just returned to Thunderbird Two's control seat when the after-shock struck. Even the mightiest Thunderbird shuddered from the force of the shock waves. He watched helplessly as the building below, the one that contained his brother, collapsed like a deck of cards. A pall of dust rose up from the wreckage obliterating the view.  
  
He reached for the intercom. "This is Thunderbird Two calling Virgil, do you read me?"  
  
No reply.  
  
He tried again. "Virgil, can you here me! Virgil! Answer me! Come in Virgil!"  
  
The intercom remained frustratingly mute.  
  
Gordon's first instinct was to notify Scott, to seek reassurance and form a plan of attack. But Scott was out of action, laid up by a virus. Should he radio home? Should he worry his family, perhaps unnecessarily? His thoughts were interrupted by a call on his intercom.  
  
"G-Gordon," it was Brains, "was that another shock."  
  
The voice helped Gordon regain a sense of control and his was already beginning to form a plan of action as he replied.  
  
"Yes, it was, Brains. Quite a big one by the looks of things. A lot of the buildings have collapsed even further." He paused. "Including the one Virgil was in."  
  
"Can you reach him?"  
  
"No, he's not answering the intercom."  
  
"W-we've got to get down there and help him!"  
  
"I know. How's the patient."  
  
"His blood pressure's, uh, dropped slightly."  
  
"Okay, we'll get him sorted and then we'll go get Virgil." The 'plane started to move forward.  
  
"And Gordon."  
  
"Yes Brains?"  
  
"He'll be fine!"  
  
"Yeah," Gordon sounded more confident than he felt. "Yeah, he'll be fine."  
  
*****  
  
In the makeshift hospital Superintendent Hally picked herself up off the floor. The hospital seemed to have survived the aftershock fairly intact. She knew that she would be needed back at Civil Defence Headquarters. She commanded the constable guarding Scott's room to stand his ground and hurried over to the Civil Defence HQ.  
  
Like the hospital, the Headquarters was still structurally intact. Not that you could tell from the papers and equipment that littered the floors.   
  
Superintendent Hally picked her way through the debris until she reached the co-ordination station. International Rescue's Mobile Control stood unattended and she felt a momentary pang of guilt at leaving Scott. Pushing that to the back of her mind she took control.  
  
"Damage reports?"  
  
"Nothing major. No new casualties. The only damage is to already damaged buildings, and they've already been evacuated."  
  
Someone piped up. "Lucky International Rescue got out of there in time. That factory that they were searching was one of the worst affected."  
  
Superintendent Hally swung round to the speaker. "Are you sure they got out safely?"  
  
"Well," the speaker paused, nonplussed, "we saw the stretcher being raised out of the building and the Thunderbird craft seemed to hover above the factory for a mighty long time. It was still there when the quake hit, but reports are that it's coming in to land now. They've rescued one man with possible head and neck injuries and they'll be coming straight to the hospital. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Just want to make sure." The Superintendent was unwilling to appear indecisive, 'I just have a feeling...,' she thought to herself.  
  
*****  
  
Back on the island, Jeff Tracy also had a funny feeling that something wasn't quite right. He kept his thoughts to himself though as Tin-Tin served him a cup of coffee.  
  
"Any news Mr Tracy?"  
  
"Nothing yet Tin-Tin. I haven't heard from them for a while, but I guess they are too busy to radio in."  
  
He was interrupted by the television giving an update on the earthquake.  
  
"There have been reports of a severe aftershock. At the present time no further casualties have been reported. We cross live to our reporter at the scene."  
  
"Thank you Fred. Yes, there has been quite a major 'quake. Reports say that only buildings that were affected by the initial 'quake have been damaged. These had already been evacuated by the rescue authorities, including International Rescue."  
  
Jeff turned from the set. That would explain why Scott hadn't radioed in. The team had clearly been kept busy since their last report and just as well too, judging by the news item.  
  
  
  
*****  
Virgil became suddenly aware of a shooting pain down his right arm. The force of the pain made him gasp, causing him to inhale a lung-full of the dust. This sent him into a paroxysm of coughing and sent a new wave of pain through his body.  
  
"Are you all right?" The concerned face of his travelling companion came into his field of vision.  
  
Virgil waited until his coughing died down before answering. "No, I don't think so." He looked at his hand. It was jammed between the concrete slab and the wall at his back. A bit of wood that jutted out beside him, was the only reason why he hadn't been totally crushed. He took a breath to steady his nerves. It was clear that the bones in the hand were broken. Virgil didn't care to think that he might have sustained worse injuries than that. "I think I've damaged my hand."  
  
When the other man saw where the hand was he gave a long low whistle. "Gee, you're lucky that's all that's broken. How'd you manage to get your hand in there?"  
  
Virgil gave a rueful smile. "I guess instinct took over from common sense. I automatically tried to stop that slab from falling onto me. Anyway, how are you?"  
  
"Me? I'm fine, tough as old boots. I'm more worried about how we're going to get you out in one piece. Any chance of calling up some of your friends."  
  
As if on cue a voice was heard from within the rubble. "This is Thunderbird Two calling Virgil, do you read me?"  
  
The man started looking through the rubble to find the intercom that Virgil had dropped.  
  
Gordon's disembodied voice came through the ether again. "Virgil, can you here me! Virgil! Answer me! Come in Virgil!"  
  
"There it is!" Virgil pointed to the intercom. At that moment a chunk of concrete rolled off another and landed on the intercom which was flattened with a puff of smoke and a shower of sparks.  
  
Momentarily demoralised both men stared at the space where the intercom had been.  
  
"Guess it's not our lucky day." Virgil was the first to speak.  
  
"Yeah, you wouldn't have another on you would you."  
  
"Yes, but I don't think it'll do us a lot of good." Virgil looked at his shattered wristwatch/telecom on his right arm.  
  
Both men were silent as they collected their thoughts.  
  
Virgil waited until the pain had subsided before he reached into a pocket in his trousers. Every movement seemed to cut him like a knife. He paused and then pulled out two bits of metal, each similar in size to a pencil. He jammed his thumbnail under a flap of metal on one and flicked it so that it rotated and settled at right angles to the body of the instrument. The movement caused him to drop the other one.  
  
"Bother. Could you get that please,...? I suppose if we're going to work together I'd better know what to call you."  
  
"Neil. And I guess your name is Virgil." Neil retrieved the 'pencil'.  
  
Virgil smiled. "So much for secrecy. Thanks." He looked at the 'pencil' in Neil's hand. "If you could open out each end of that, like this..." he repeated the operation with the other end of the 'pencil' still clasped in his hand. He then slid open a section of the instrument and a thread, no thicker than a human hair fell out and dangled from the silver casing. At the end of the thread was a tiny connector.  
  
Neil copied Virgil's instructions. "Much easier with two hands." He said. "What is it?"  
  
"It's a jack..."  
  
"A WHAT?"  
  
"A jack, it'll only move a few millimetres, but hopefully it will be enough to release my hand without bringing everything down on top of us.  
  
"Now..." trying to twist his body round without moving his right arm, Virgil managed to jam his jack next to his hand and between the wood and the concrete. "...if you could do the same with yours on the other side. Now connect those two bits at the end. Good." He paused. "See that button..." Neil looked at the connector, there was indeed a tiny red button. "Stand as far back as you can and push that button. And get ready to run if anything goes wrong!"  
  
Neil was amazed at how calm Virgil was. 'I guess when you've been in tight situations as often as this guy must have been, you get somewhat used to stressful situations.' he mused. He pushed the button.  
  
At first it seemed that nothing was happening, then slowly, ever so slowly the concrete slab started to move. A light shower of dust fell to the ground at their feet. Virgil became aware that he was biting his lip. 'It's not going to be enough' he thought. 'It MUST be.' Suddenly he felt the pressure on his hand lessen, and a moment later he was able to pull it from it's prison. He slumped back against the wall and his knees buckled as he was swamped with a mixture of relief and pain.  
  
Neil rushed over to his side. "Here, let's have a look at this hand." With infinitesimal care he examined the damage. "Could be worse, but you're not going to be able to use it for a while. We'll have to immobilise it so that we can get out of here."  
  
Virgil managed to shrug his pack off his left shoulder. "Can you help me get this off?" Once freed of the pack he opened a pocket and reached inside, pulling out a container of saline solution and some bandages. "Can you clean up the cuts?"  
  
"No worries." Neil was quick and efficient in his work. "Now what."  
  
Once again Virgil reached into the pack. This time he pulled out a glove. "Here, hold this open while I slip my hand into it?"   
  
Once this operation was completed Virgil released a valve on the side of the glove. The glove expanded, surrounding the injured hand in a protective cushion.   
  
"Strewth." Neil was once again impressed. "You haven't got anything in that pack that can get us out of here quicker have you?"  
  
Now the injured bones were immobilised Virgil began to feel more in control of the situation. "Nope, we'll just have to start walking and hope that our exits aren't blocked."  
  
"Keep optimistic mate," Neil swung the pack onto his broad shoulders, "she'll be right."  
  
They set off on what they were sure would be a long journey back to safety.  
  
***** 


	5. Dilemma 2

Dilemma 2  
  
It was taking longer than Gordon would have liked to get Virgil and Neil's rescue operation underway. Brains was heavily handicapped by his lack of glasses and was unable to help with the unloading of the patient. The ambulance services were understaffed due to the 'flu and Gordon had to assist with the transportation of the injured man to the hospital. While he was there he was able to tell someone else about his colleagues predicament. All the other rescue services were involved in other call outs.  
  
"Well Gordon, old boy, it's up to you." He said to himself.  
  
His first line of attack was to get Thunderbird Two back into the air. From this vantage point he was able to sweep the building with his scanners. On his third pass he was able to pick up some signs of life.  
  
"Yes! Got'em." He whooped.  
  
"Where?" Brains peered short-sightedly at the computer screen.  
  
"There." Gordon pointed to two faint dots. "They're pretty close to the entrance. They might get out of the building before we can land."  
  
"W-Well, we'd better hurry to, uh, greet them."  
  
Gordon manoeuvred the Thunderbird machine until it was hovering over the place that had been set aside for it's landing. There were two trucks parked in the previously vacant site.   
  
"C'mon," Gordon was getting impatient. "Get out of the way! I wish this baby had a horn." He mimed pushing a button in the middle of the steering column. "That would make 'em shift."  
  
*****  
  
It had seemed to be a long slow process. The path that Virgil had marked so carefully had been obliterated in places. They frequently had to stop to allow his pain to subside. Many times Neil had to assist Virgil over the fallen infrastructure of the building. And still the end didn't seem to be in sight.  
  
They were having a breather after Neil had helped pull Virgil up a particularly steep slab of concrete.   
  
Virgil laughed. "I thought I was supposed to be the one rescuing you."  
  
Neil ran his thumbs under the straps of the pack to ease his aching shoulders. "Well you helped rescue my mate, so I guess one good turn deserves another."  
  
Virgil heaved himself back to his feet. He was going to be mighty sore in the morning he reflected.  
  
They rounded the corner and were met with the sight of daylight through the front door of the building.  
  
"Well what do you know?" Neil was grinning from ear to ear. "We made it."  
  
They were just about to step out into the fresh air when their passage was barred by the sudden appearance of a figure.  
  
Gordon jumped in surprise. "Boy, am I glad to see you two. And upright too." He noticed the cushioned bandage on Virgil's hand. "Hey, what happened to you?"  
  
Now that he had reached safety, Virgil was able to make light of the situation. "Nothing much. I just squished it a bit."  
  
The three men stepped out into the bright sunlight and started heading over to a waiting ambulance.  
  
"Well," Neil shrugged off the pack and handed it to Gordon, "I'm fine, so I guess this is where I'll 'love you and leave you.'"  
  
Virgil stopped and turned to him. Neil's skin and hair were chalky white with a thick coating of concrete dust. "I guess I owe you a lot, so thanks." He extended his left hand, which was also covered in the dust. "I hope you were a Boy Scout, this is the best I can do."  
  
Neil took the outstretched hand and shook it warmly. "Yep, some of my best times were spent in Scouts. Always glad to meet a fellow member. And it was my pleasure to help. Made me think that just for a short time I was a member of International Rescue myself. It's a privilege to be able to repay you guys in part for all the good you do."  
  
Gordon nudged Virgil. "C'mon, you'd better get that hand seen to." Virgil climbed into the ambulance and Gordon hurried back to Thunderbird Two. As the doors to the ambulance were closed Virgil gave Neil one last wave and that was the last he saw of him.  
  
*****  
  
The doctor took down the x-ray and peered over his glasses at Virgil. "Well, you needn't worry. You will be able to play the piano again."  
  
Virgil was delighted "Great!" He then frowned. "How'd you know I played the piano?  
  
"Your fingers, or more correctly, your fingertips. They're slightly flattened. As your job is of the more physical type I can't see you spending a lot of time at a computer so therefore I think you must practice playing some type of keyboard instrument. The piano is the most common."  
  
"That's good detective work." Virgil was impressed.  
  
"Ah, in my job you frequently have to play the detective. People often can't, or don't, give you all the facts relating to their illness and you have to work out what's really happening.   
  
"I quite pride myself on my deducing abilities, for instance, I would say that your top-secret base is probably on an island somewhere. As it would need to be clear of other habitation and away from regular flight paths it's probably based in the middle of an ocean. The Pacific Ocean is the biggest so odds are that that is where this island is."  
  
Virgil had heard people expound this theory before and was not about to say anything that could confirm the hypothesis, so he merely shrugged non-committedly.  
  
"Another deduction that I would make," the doctor continued without pausing to see if his comments had hit home, "is that the gentleman in the room next door is actually a close relative of yours. Probably your older brother. There's enough of a physical similarity between the two of you and you also gave yourself away by showing great concern for him, when you arrived, even though you were obviously in a lot of pain."  
  
"Now wait a minute..." Virgil was starting to get a little worried.  
  
The doctor held up a placating hand. "You don't need to worry. You will note that I've held this conversation while only the two of us are in this room. Another important talent that a good doctor has to have is to know when a patient's confidentiality must be upheld at all costs.   
  
"Your organisation has helped a good many people and for that reason, among others, I am going to respect your request for secrecy."  
  
"Thanks." Virgil smiled. "I'll give you one point for the piano playing and a 'no comment' for your other two theories. I would like to give you a more positive answer, but there are unscrupulous people out there who if they thought you had even the tiniest bit of information about us, no matter how tenuous, would not hesitate to use what ever force they deemed necessary to get that information." He stood up and held out his good hand to shake the doctors. "I'll leave you to deduce what you like from that."  
  
The doctor laughed good-naturedly and showed Virgil to the door. "You can take your 'associate' home when ever you are ready to leave, although I hope you are not the pilot of one of your Thunderbirds. You are not going to be able to use that hand much."  
  
Virgil looked at his arm thoughtfully. The plaster stretched from below the elbow to the tips of his fingers. The hand, he had to admit, was virtually useless. He shrugged "We're all pilots. One of the others can fly the Thunderbird no problem."  
  
*****  
  
"We have a problem."  
  
Gordon had met Virgil at Mobile Control.  
  
"What's up?" Virgil frowned at his brother.  
  
"You can't fly Thunderbird Two like that, Scott's out for the count, and Brains has lost his glasses. We can't find a spare pair anywhere."  
  
"Did you check Thunderbird One?"  
  
"Yep, not a sign of 'em"  
  
"Where is Brains?"  
  
"Still scrabbling around inside 'Two' trying to find a spare pair. But we've looked everywhere and there's no sign of them. And there's no way that I'm going to let Brains pilot a Thunderbird craft when he can't see his nose in front of his face."  
  
Virgil gave an involuntary shudder as he conjured up a mental picture of Brains piloting Thunderbird Two into the sea because he couldn't find the island. "There's only one thing we can do then." He said. "You fly 'One' home and take Brains with you. I'll stay here and keep an eye on Scott. You can bring Alan back with you, then you can fly 'Two' and Alan can fly 'One' home again."  
  
"I guess it's our best plan of action." Gordon agreed. "I've already checked with Superintendent Hally and they can manage without our help now. I'll get cracking and you can radio base and let them know what we're up to."  
  
Virgil smiled. "F.A.B. With all this decision making, we'll be putting big brother out of a job."  
  
They arranged to have mobile control reinstalled inside Thunderbird One and supervised Scott's transfer to the sickbay of Thunderbird Two. Satisfied that all that needed to be done, had been done, Virgil accompanied Gordon to the entry of Thunderbird Two. "Don't take too long," he said, "I'm itching to get home."  
  
Gordon coughed. "I'll be back before you know it." He turned and strode purposefully towards Scott's plane.   
  
Virgil stayed at the door of Thunderbird Two as he watched the smaller rocket ship lift off with a blast of its vertical jets. After the silver craft had disappeared into the distance the scene appeared to be eerily quiet. He went back inside, closing the door behind him. He suddenly realised that he had precious little to do until his brothers returned. He wondered into the sick bay.  
  
Scott was lying asleep on one of the bunks. His normally tanned face a ghostly white colour contrasting sharply with his black hair. Virgil checked his brother's condition on the 'VSM' and found them to be as normal as could be expected.  
  
"If you need me big brother, just yell. I've left the intercom on." He said, although he doubted that Scott heard him. After tucking the blanket under Scott's chin, Virgil left the room.  
  
He headed up to the flight deck. From this vantage point he could see the scene for miles around. He noted the scorch marks on the ground where Thunderbird One had taken off and hoped that it would return soon. Further in the distance Virgil could make out the wreckage of New Zealand's capital city. He could just see the warehouse in which he had been trapped and he shuddered to think what might have happened if he'd been in the wrong place when the quake hit.  
  
Once again he felt a tremor under his feet as the ground reacted to the seismic forces around. Virgil switched on the radio and relaxed as no further reports of any danger came in. He slid into the familiar control seat and experimentally tried out the manoeuvres he would have had to undertake if he had to fly the Thunderbird to escape another big 'quake. The Doctor was right. With his right hand immobilised he would not be able to operate the big plane. He could only hope that things would remain quiet until he was able to get home.  
  
He looked at his watch and mentally counted down the time it would take Gordon to fly home and then return... 


	6. Dilemma 3

Dilemma 3  
  
..."Couldn't complete a simple rescue without my help, eh." Alan was in a cheerful mood when he arrived in Wellington. He'd been disappointed at being left out of this one and was glad when he was called into service, even if it was only to rescue his two brothers. He grabbed Virgil's plastered arm and inspected it. "Guess we won't be having any concerts from you for a while."  
  
Virgil was in a slightly less cheerful frame of mind. "I have it on good authority that this hand will be as good as new. Now if you would be kind enough to..."  
  
Alan wasn't listening. "So where's big brother. Must be getting too old for this game. He'll have to start leaving it for us younger ones." Whistling he disappeared into the sickbay.  
  
Virgil rolled his eyes. "I wish he'd hurry up, don't you?" He muttered.   
  
Gordon didn't reply. He was leaning against the wall and his cheeks were paler than usual.  
  
Virgil frowned at him. "Are you okay?"  
  
Gordon coughed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired I guess. It's been a long day."  
  
Virgil tried to feel his brothers forehead but his hand was knocked away. "You sure you're okay."  
  
"I said I'm fine!"  
  
Virgil refrained from further comment. Gordon was sensible enough not to risk his life, or that of his brothers. He'd have to trust that the aquanaut was feeling all right. At that moment Alan wondered out of the sick bay. He seemed more subdued that he had been when he walked in a few moments earlier. "He doesn't look well does he?"  
  
"That's 'cause he isn't!" Virgil confirmed the diagnosis.  
  
Alan headed towards Thunderbird Two's entrance, giving Gordon a poke as he past. "Well I guess we'd better get these invalids home."  
  
"Yeah," Gordon agreed, "that sounds like a good idea!"  
  
*****  
  
Thunderbird Two neared Tracy Island. Graceful palm trees could be seen waving in the gentle breeze. The sun was glinting on the ocean and the house could be seen reflected in the swimming pool.  
  
Virgil sat in the passenger seat, his jaw muscles clenched tight. It was bad enough that someone else had to fly his beloved plane, but as the trip went on he was becoming more and more worried about Gordon's state of health. Normally he would have trusted his brother to fly his plane, but now...  
  
He could no longer bite his tongue. "You haven't got enough power!"  
  
Gordon appeared confused. "What?"  
  
"More power! You need more power!"  
  
"More power?"...  
  
Virgil leaped to his feet and expertly made the correct adjustment and then transferred Thunderbird Two onto automatic hover. He made a decision.  
  
"I'm taking over."  
  
"What!"  
  
"You're in no fit state to land her. Your reactions are too slow. One false move and we'll crash land and I'm not prepared to jeopardise our lives as well as those on the ground."  
  
"In case you hadn't noticed," Gordon pointed to Virgil's cast, "you're not exactly in top condition either."  
  
"I've been thinking about that..."   
  
Back on the ground Alan Tracy was standing on the veranda looking up at Thunderbird Two hovering over the runway. "I don't get it. Why doesn't he come into land?"  
  
Jeff left his desk and walked out onto the deck. "Something must be wrong. They haven't reported in..."  
  
As if on cue a beeping sound sent them hurrying back into the lounge. Virgil's eyes were flashing.  
  
Jeff flicked a switch on his desk; "Go ahead Virgil."  
  
Virgil smiled reassuringly "Slight problem Father. Gordon's come down with this 'flu..."  
  
"How is he?" Jeff interrupted.  
  
Virgil shrugged. "Better than Scott, which isn't saying much, but he's not competent to land Thunderbird Two."  
  
"I resent that." A voice was heard in the background.  
  
Virgil chuckled. "Maybe I phrased that wrong. Anyway I've got two ideas. Either we can lash my right hand to the steering column and then my left hand will be free to do the necessary throttle adjustments."  
  
"Sounds risky." Jeff didn't like the sound of it. "What's the other idea?"  
  
"Either you or Tin-Tin flies Thunderbird One and winches Alan down to take over."  
  
Jeff paused. "That idea has merit, but I'm not sure that either Tin-Tin or I have the necessary skills to be able to control One without risking Alan's neck."  
  
Alan was unconcerned. "So! Now's the chance for one of you to get some experience!"  
  
Jeff looked back at Virgil's framed image. "Okay. We'll make the necessary arrangements at this end. You get Gordon comfortable in the Sick Bay."  
  
Virgil smiled back at his father. "F.A.B."  
  
*****  
  
Jeff had decided that as much as he would have liked to have some action, Tin-Tin had had more practise at flying Thunderbird One and would be better suited to the job. "Take it easy, Honey," he told her, "There's no rush. Alan's got the hard job, you just have to keep Thunderbird One steady."  
  
Seated at Thunderbird One's controls as she hovered above Thunderbird Two, Tin-Tin recalled those words. One slip of the controls and Alan would be sent swinging like a pendulum, perhaps even ricocheting him into Thunderbird Two. She took a deep breath and spoke into the microphone.  
  
"We're in position Alan."  
  
His voice sounded tinny in her ears. "F.A.B."  
  
Secured in his harness, Alan watched as the hatch below him slid open. This close, the great bulk of Thunderbird Two hid the earth below. From this viewpoint it looked as though he was going to be lowered to the top of a building, not an aeroplane hovering a couple of hundred metres above the ground. He stepped out into nothing, the cable tethering him to Thunderbird One stretched taut.  
  
"Lower away."  
  
From her seat at Thunderbird One's controls Tin-Tin activated the winch mechanism. Slowly Alan started to descend. He was glad that there was relatively little wind. This job was never pleasant and the thought of an air to air transfer in heavy winds, especially when one plane had an inexperienced pilot and the other was on automatic pilot, made his blood run cold.  
  
He spoke into his microphone. "Virgil, open the hatch."  
  
Below him an opening appeared. He could see Virgil's face looking up at him. The face disappeared as Thunderbird One altered her position slightly. He spoke again, "Tin-Tin, right, right two degrees." He felt her make the adjustment and once again Virgil's face swung into view.  
  
"Nearly there. Keep her steady. I'm entering the hatch now." He disappeared inside Thunderbird Two and Virgil assisted him to the floor. Alan undid his harness. "I'm inside, Tin-Tin. Winch in the line and then you can land."  
  
"F.A.B. Alan, see you at home." The line disappeared and the sun streamed in as Thunderbird One moved away from above her sister plane.   
  
Alan shut the hatch above him and turned back to Virgil. "Right, looks like it's little brother to the rescue again. Let's land this baby." 


	7. Changes

Changes  
  
"There's nothing else for it! We're going to have to employ someone else!"  
  
Virgil had been trying to reach an annoying itch under his plaster. He stopped and looked at his father in surprise. "Employ someone else?" he echoed.  
  
"Yes. You can't take part in rescues while your arm's mending. Scott and Gordon are both laid low with the 'flu. If International Rescue is needed now, we are going to be severely short staffed."  
  
"But Dad, you've always resisted such ideas because of security concerns." Alan was puzzled by this change of heart.  
  
"I'm just facing facts. We've only got a limited number of operational staff. Both Tin-Tin and Brains are more important to the organisation in research and development rather than as operatives. I could send you..." he gestured towards Virgil "to man Thunderbird Five, while your arm is getting better, and have John on standby here. Even then, we'd still be short staffed. And John doesn't have the operational experience that the rest of you have."  
  
"But Mr Tracy, how do we find new operatives?" Tin-Tin asked reasonably. "We can't just advertise in the paper."  
  
"I can see it now," Alan said. "Top Secret Organisation requires strong, intelligent person. Must be fearless and able to work under pressure. Send C.V. to..."  
  
"Obviously that is not an option." Jeff conceded. "But we've managed to create a network of agents around the world, without endangering our security. We'll just have to screen all possible applicants at each stage along the way. I'll send out a bulletin to our agents to prepare to start proceedings straight away."  
  
Somewhat numbed Virgil headed down to Scott's room. His brother was recovering from his illness, as evidenced by his complaining about being confined to his bed all the time, but he was still pale and hadn't recovered his appetite.   
  
Scott put down the magazine he was reading. "At last! Some company. Sit down."  
  
Virgil sat. "I think I need to sit down, I'm in shock."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Fathers just announced that he's going to get a new operative."  
  
Scott frowned "You mean another agent some where in the world."  
  
Virgil shook his head. "I mean someone who can take on our duties when we're out of action."  
  
Scott's frown deepened. "That can't be right. You sure you're not getting this 'flu and you're getting confused?"  
  
"He's right." Alan entered the room. "Dad's out there now talking to Lady Penelope about arrangements."  
  
Scott fell back against his pillow. "I never thought I'd see the day... Still I guess it makes sense..."  
  
And so the search for a new member of the International Rescue team was underway.  
  
*****  
  
Initially ads were placed in various publications, advertising for applicants for jobs at fictional firms. In some cases International Rescues agents were able to put forward names of people that they felt would be suitable. All applicants who had living relations out side the organisation were immediately dropped from the list. As Jeff said "We can't expect anyone to lie to their families and we can't chance any security leaks."  
  
Those remaining had their backgrounds thoroughly checked and rechecked. These individuals then had an interview with the local I.R. agent, who told them nothing about the prospective job but asked them a set list of questions. Depending on these answers the applicant was either discarded or proceeded onto the next level.  
  
The next stage was a test to see how the individual reacted to stressful situations. The applicants were invited along to a location. On the way there an accident scene confronted them. They were judged on how they treated those involved and in some cases whether they even stopped!  
  
Those who passed this test had to undergo another interview. By this stage many had grown tired of what was seen to be a run-around and dropped out of the race.  
  
There followed more questions by agents. Those who remained were checked once again at the highest level. The number had been whittled down to 25.  
  
Lady Penelope orchestrated the final security check, using methods known only to her. She completed her checks with a personal interview. Her laid back charm put many off guard and she was able gain more information than any of the previous checks had revealed. Some of the applicants dismissed her as a rich 'air-head' and were immediately dispatched from the list.  
  
It was up to Jeff to interview the final five applicants, under the guise of considering them for a job at one of his companies. The calibre of the applicants was very high, but in the end he'd narrowed it down to one person...  
  
*****  
  
"One person? All those months of checking and he employs one person." Alan was astounded. "He decides we need more back-up and then he employs one person."  
  
The four Tracy brothers had gone on a hike around the island. They'd stopped for lunch on the far side and the conversation had turned to the newest member of the squad.  
  
"Steady on, Alan. This is Dad's baby and he's wary about letting a stranger into our midst. Despite all the checks he's still worried about security leaks." Scott tried to calm his youngest brother down. "If this goes well he'll probably employ someone else."  
  
"And then we'll have to go through the whole rigmarole again!"  
  
"Not necessarily. I gather Father was pretty impressed with all the final applicants." Virgil added his slant on the issue.  
  
Gordon asked a pertinent question. "Anyone know anything about this guy. Assuming it is a man."  
  
"No, Dad's been pretty tight-lipped about the whole affair. I guess he doesn't want us to make any conclusions about this person until we meet him, or her." Scott finished his statement and took a large bite out of his sandwich.  
  
"Penny's bringing them over tomorrow, so I suppose we'll find out more then." Virgil was fishing in his daypack for his sketchbook.  
  
"If it's a women, what do you think she'll look like?" Gordon asked. The others looked at him. "C'mon you must admit it would be nice to have another lady around here. You can't tell me you haven't thought about it. All except him," he jerked his thumb towards Alan. "He'll be worried that he'll be making Tin-Tin jealous."  
  
"Hey, what're you talking about!?" Alan was embarrassed by the connotation.  
  
"Aw, c'mon Alan, we all know that you and Tin-Tin have, shall we say, a certain amount of affection for each other." Scott was enjoying winding his brother up.  
  
"Yeah, why don't you put us all out of the misery of pretending that there's nothing going on and marry the poor girl." Virgil held up his pad. On it he'd sketched a couple of doves kissing and a pair of wedding rings.  
  
Alan made a grab for the sketch pad. "Is this pick on Alan Tracy day or something." His brothers laughed good-naturedly and Virgil handed him the piece of paper with the picture on it. Alan screwed it up and threw it into his bag.  
  
*****  
  
Back at the house Jeff was surveying the new operatives room. It had been painted a neutral colour and his mother had just put clean sheets on the bed. She walked over and took her son's arm.  
  
"What are you thinking about Jeff, you're not having second thoughts are you?  
  
Jeff smiled and tapped his mother's hand. "No Ma, I'm sure that this is the right decision and that we've chosen the right person. I just hope the others will be able to get along with them."  
  
"I don't think you'll have any problems with John, Scott, and Virgil. Gordon and Alan might be a different matter."  
  
"That's what I was thinking."  
  
She gave a demure smile. "I've been wondering. Do you think flowers in this room would be appropriate?"  
  
He smiled. "Mother I'm sure that flowers would be appreciated. And I'm saying that only because it would be a nice gesture, not because the occupant is male or female. You'll have to wait with the rest of them."  
  
She pouted. "Jeff Tracy, anyone would think it was a Christmas present you were giving us, not someone who's coming to work with us."  
  
"I just don't want anyone to have any preconceived notions. They don't know they are coming to work for International Rescue and you don't know anything about them."  
  
"How do you know that they'll want to work for International Rescue?"  
  
"One of their initial questions was 'Name a service organisation you'd like to work for.' This particular applicant named us straight away."  
  
"What if International Rescue hadn't been mentioned by anyone suitable?"  
  
"One of the bystanders at the 'accident' would make a comment along the lines that International Rescue was a great organisation and that they would be interesting to work for."  
  
"Seems to me that you were taking a chance that they were concentrating on what was being said and not what was going on."  
  
He gave her an affectionate squeeze. "I know, but all the final candidates had experience in other rescue organisations. I think we're pretty safe." 


	8. New Beginnings 1

New Beginnings 1  
  
Lady Penelope was sitting in the airport lounge. Her elegant legs crossed, long perfectly manicured hands holding a magazine, which she was calmly perusing. Her companion by comparison was a study of pent up nerves.   
  
Trying to make light of the situation he said. "I've never been so nervous. I've abseiled down crumbling cliffs during my 'Search & Rescue' work and fought fires in buildings that were collapsing about my ears. But I've never been as nervous as I am now. Waiting to start a new job!"  
  
Lady Penelope smiled. "I'm sure you'll feel better once you know what you have to do... Ah, here's Parker and Mr Tracy."  
  
Her companion stood up to greet Jeff. "Good to meet you again Mr Tracy."  
  
Jeff shook the outstretched hand. "The pleasure's all mine. We're looking forward to having you work with us. "If you have all your luggage we'd better take off before the weather deteriorates."  
  
Parker got behind a baggage trolley, piled high with immaculate pink bags and started to push them out towards the airfield.  
  
Hoisting a battered backpack to his shoulders the newest member of International Rescue followed up behind his new employer and his associates.  
  
Jeff was arranging clearance for the plane. The staff were treating him with the difference that benefited a wealthy and generous man.  
  
After all the paper work had been cleared they climbed into a courtesy cart and were driven out to the waiting 'Condor'.   
  
Parker had already seen that the luggage had been carefully loaded. "All set, M'lady."  
  
"Good Parker."  
  
Her companion hesitated. "Wait a minute! This is a Condor isn't it? They're long range planes. Where are we going?"  
  
Jeff Tracy held up his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, you're not being kidnapped and we don't subscribe to illegal activity. It's just that where you are going to be based is a long way from here. If you have any problems with that you are more than welcome to turn around and leave now. No questions asked. I would like to point out though, that we would value the addition of your expertise to our, er, organisation."  
  
The man looked at the three people surrounding him, an ex-astronaut tycoon, an aristocratic lady and her ageing butler. What harm could they do? With a shrug he climbed into the plane.  
  
Jeff smiled and motioned for Lady Penelope to climb in next. He then climbed in after Parker and raised the gangway up behind him.  
  
*****  
  
"I'm getting nervous." Gordon was pacing up and down in front of the row of portraits. Operation Cover-up had been enacted and each picture of the Tracy Boys showed them clad in casual clothes.  
  
"Nervous?" Scott was amused. "You think nothing of climbing aboard a sinking 'plane or clearing debris from a rocket that's about to launch and you're nervous about meeting a stranger?"  
  
Gordon stopped pacing. "Okay, so maybe nervous is the wrong word. Try... apprehensive. What if this person isn't all that he/she is cracked up to be?"  
  
"Don't worry, after all the checks that have been carried out, they've got to have the 'right stuff.'"  
  
"I'm with Gordon," Virgil was seated at the piano, though tellingly the keyboard was closed. "What if he, she, it, doesn't 'gel' with us. We rely on trust, what if we can't build up that trust with this 'person'."  
  
"Lets cross that bridge when we come to it."  
  
*****  
  
The 'Condor' circled the island once and made a low run over the house. Parker moaned and covered his face.  
  
"Not frightening you Parker, am I." Jeff grinned.  
  
"Nooo." Parker didn't sound too sure. "Hit's just that HI found the sun a bit too bright for my eyes."  
  
Jeff banked the plane and brought it smoothly down onto the runway. The craft rolled to the hanger and stopped. An older gentleman in oriental dress emerged and approached the 'plane as it disgorged its four passengers.  
  
"Mr Tracy. You had a good flight."  
  
"Great Kyrano. Perfect flying weather." Jeff introduced the young man to his servant. "This is Kyrano. Been a friend and helper for longer than we'd both like to admit."  
  
Kyrano bowed low. "It is a pleasure to meet you."  
  
Jeff turned back to his newest operational member, who was gazing wide-eyed at the opulent scene that surrounded him. "This is your last chance. If you want to back out we'll get back onto the 'plane right now and I'll take you back to the mainland. Once we take you inside that building, you're committed to joining us."  
  
"Now Jeff," Lady Penelope admonished him. "You're making it sound like a suicide mission. You're going to frighten the dear boy away."  
  
"I just want to make quite sure that he is prepared to join us. We can't afford any security breaches."  
  
"I've done a bit of checking of my own, Mr Tracy, and you're well liked and respected in the business world. I also consider myself to be a good judge of character and I trust you, all of you." He made a sweeping gesture with his hands taking in the entire group. "I wouldn't have come this far with you if I'd had any doubts about what you are up to." He stretched out his hand towards Jeff. "I'm willing to join your organisation."  
  
Jeff's craggy face broke into a smile as he shook the hand. "Glad to hear it. Come on the others are waiting to meet you."  
  
Alan was standing on the deck. "Why are they taking so long?"  
  
Gordon joined him. "Maybe he's got a lot of luggage."  
  
"I don't think so, the majority of it is pink, so it must be Penny's."  
  
"It could be someone who likes pink. Can you see him?"  
  
"No." Alan turned to look at Gordon. "Anyway it Parker whose carrying all the luggage so it must be Penny's."  
  
"Look," Gordon pointed, "Oh no, it's Kyrano with Dad's gear, and there's Dad."  
  
"Will you come inside." Scott appeared at the doorway. "He's going to get a complex if he sees you two staring at him..."  
  
"There he is." Alan interrupted.  
  
"Where?" Scott strained to see over their heads.  
  
"What's he like?" Virgil had deserted the piano.  
  
"Bit hard to tell from here."  
  
"Come on guys. He's probably nervous enough as it is without us giving him the once over from here." Scott grabbed Alan and Gordon by the arm and dragged them inside protesting.  
  
Grandma chose that moment to enter the room. "Did I hear the 'plane."  
  
"You did Grandma. They're coming in now." Gordon confirmed.  
  
"Is it male or female."  
  
"Male, with short dark hair. That's all I could make out before I was man-handled inside" Alan complained, rubbing his bruised arm.  
  
They froze when they heard the sounds of the lift operating.  
  
Tin-Tin brought in a tray of cups and placed them on the table. "Has anyone seen him yet...?"  
  
The lift stopping silenced her query.  
  
Almost as one person they all took a deep breath.  
  
The door slid open.  
  
Scott realised that his nails were digging into his palms.  
  
A figure stepped out of the lift partly hidden behind an arm full of pink bags.  
  
There was a collective sigh as the pent up breaths were released. "Parker!"  
  
Virgil went over to assist the manservant. "Where are the others?" He asked as they left the room.  
  
"Taken the stairs. Mister Tracy wanted to show him a bit of the hisland." Parkers voice trailed off down the hallway.  
  
"And this is the centre of operations." A voice from behind them caused the rest of the group to spin around. Tin-Tin narrowly managed to avoid catching her dress on the tray holding the coffee cups. "Boys, Grandma, Tin-Tin, Brains. I'd like you to meet the newest member of our team, Neil Huia."  
  
Neil grasped his backpack to his chest and uttered a nervous "Hi."  
  
Feeling somewhat at a loss Scott moved over with his hand outstretched. "Hi, I'm Scott."  
  
Neil extended his arm to return the handshake and lost his grip on the backpack. Both he and Scott bent over to retrieve it and managed to bang their heads together. They both stood up and each thinking that the other had it, let go of the bag. It fell again and landed on Jeff's foot.  
  
"Sorry Mr Tracy." Neil grabbed the bag and hoisted it over his shoulder.  
  
"Don't worry about it." Jeff smiled genially. "Scott take his pack and put it by the door where it won't cause any more trouble."  
  
"Yessir." Scott lifted the bag from Neil's shoulder and did as he was told.  
  
"Well Neil I'd like you to meet the principle members of my organisation. These are four... Where's Virgil?"  
  
"Helping Parker." Scott told him.  
  
"Well Neil, these are three of my five sons. In order of ages. Oldest is Scott, whom you've already bumped heads with"  
  
Scott gave a little wave and an embarrassed "Hi."  
  
Second is John, who's currently on duty on the space satellite."  
  
"Space satellite?" Neil looked bewildered.  
  
Jeff carried on as if he hadn't heard the comment. "Then we have Virgil, who you'll meet in a moment, Gordon and the youngest is Alan." As each of their names were called out the Tracy boys came forward and shook Neil's hand.   
  
"This delightful lady," Jeff put his arm around Grandma, "is my mother. She's the most important member of the organisation as she keeps us fed and watered."  
  
"Oh Jeff!" She laughed her face dimpling in delight.  
  
"Pleasure to meet you Mrs Tracy."  
  
"This is Tin-Tin, Kyrano's daughter. She helps with engineering and development."  
  
"Wow." Neil said unsubtly as he looked wide-eyed at Tin-Tin's delicate frame clothed in a fine oriental gown.  
  
"And last but not least we have our principle engineer, Brains. Without him we wouldn't be able to do what we do."  
  
"How do you do." Said Neil, wondering exactly what it was that the organisation did.  
  
"N-nice to m-meet you, Neil."  
  
"Come over to my desk, Neil and I'll introduce you to John."  
  
"Okay." By now Neil was feeling somewhat bewildered.  
  
Jeff pushed a button and an ornament rose from the desk revealing a hidden microphone. "Jeff Tracy calling Thunderbird Five, Jeff Tracy calling Thunderbird Five."  
  
"Thunderbird Five...." Neil eyes grew round as realisation dawned. "Then you guys must be..."  
  
John's handsome face appeared in place of his portrait. It wasn't till that moment that Neil realised that the portraits had changed and in those photos, each of the Tracy boys were dressed in identical blue uniforms. Identical except for their sashes...  
  
"Hi Dad. I wondered when you were going to call."  
  
"We've just got back. John I'd like you to meet Neil Huia. The newest member of International Rescue."  
  
"Great to meet you Neil. Afraid I can't say that I've heard a lot about you. Dad's been keeping pretty quiet."  
  
"Guess we're even. I've only just found out that you're International Rescue." Neil's voice held a trace of awe. His eyes scanned the remaining portraits, coming to rest on the one person he hadn't met. A small smile appeared on his face.  
  
"Ah, Virgil, you're here." Jeff's comment caused Neil to turn. He hadn't seen Virgil enter the room. "Neil this is my middle son, Virgil."  
  
Virgil stepped forward, his smile tempered with a slight frown. "Glad to meet you at last."  
  
Neil gave a little chuckle. "Oh, we've met already." They shook hands. "Glad to see your hand's better."  
  
Virgil's frown deepened and then disappeared into a look of recognition. "I thought I recognised you, but I couldn't place your face. Mind you you're a bit cleaner than the last time I saw you." He turned to Gordon, who like the rest of his family, was wearing a frown. "You've met Neil before Gordo'. You too Brains"  
  
"We have?" Gordon was totally flummoxed.   
  
"W-When?" Brains stammered.  
  
"Well it wasn't for that long." Neil said. "I must admit that my recollections of you two are pretty hazy. But I sure remember Virgil."  
  
"Okay, don't keep us in suspense." Jeff growled. "Just when did you two, ah, four meet."  
  
"Remember that earthquake in Wellington. That one where I got my hand jammed in the concrete and Scott and Gordon came down with the 'flu."  
  
"Of course!" Gordon's face cleared.  
  
"Neil was the guy who helped me out of the building. I went in to rescue him and he ended up rescuing me." He turned to Jeff. "Well Father, I've got to endorse your choice. I've seen this guy in action and he's perfect."  
  
Neil turned red. "Gee, thanks."  
  
Jeff smiled. "Well it's nice to know that you approve. It makes me feel that I've done the right thing. Why don't you show Neil to his room and then when he's ready we can show him around."  
  
"Sure." Virgil turned to Neil. "Where's your bags?"  
  
"By the door." Neil pointed. "Watch it, it bites. It's already attacked Mr Tracy and Scott."  
  
Laughing Virgil grabbed the pack and ushered Neil down the hallway.  
  
After they'd left Lady Penelope turned to Jeff. "Do you feel happier now?"  
  
Jeff paused. "Yeah, yeah I do Penny. It's been worrying me sick that we'd made the wrong decision." He looked at those assembled in the room. "How do the rest of you feel."  
  
"Well Virgil told me how relaxed and confident Neil was during that rescue," Scott said, "I'm sure you've made the right choice." The others nodded their assent.  
  
"When are you going to bring him up here?" John's voice floated down from his portrait.  
  
"Probably later today. We'll see how things pan out. I'll let you know so you can have the welcoming mat out." 


	9. New Beginnings 2

New Beginnings 2  
  
In Neil's room Virgil placed the pack on a chair. "I hope this room's okay. We kept the décor plain so you could add your own personality to it."  
  
Neil wondered to the window. From it he could see the Pacific Ocean. "Yeah, it's great. Those flowers just give it a homely air."  
  
"Better thank Grandma. They were her idea."  
  
Neil paused. "What did your father mean? 'It makes me feel that I've done the right thing.'"  
  
Virgil leaned against the doorjamb. "Well up to now it's really only been the five of us Tracy boys who have done all the rescues, with some help from Brains, Tin-Tin, Parker and Lady Penelope."  
  
Neil was amazed. "Just you five?"  
  
"Yep. After that Wellington rescue three of us were out of action, which left International Rescue with serious staffing problems. Fortunately we weren't required anywhere for some time. But Father realised that there was always a chance that International Rescue wouldn't be able to help someone. So he decided to hire someone else.  
  
"What you've got to realise, Neil, is that International Rescue is Fathers baby and he'd do all he could to protect it. You've also got to remember that we have some pretty powerful machinery, that in the wrong hands could do a lot of damage. Hence all the secrecy. He hasn't said anything, but we've all know that Father was worried that introducing someone new to the organisation would compromise that security."  
  
Neil was serious. "I understand." His expression changed to one of amazement. "So the entire team of International Rescue is in that room?"  
  
Virgil smiled. "Not quite. Apart from John up in Thunderbird Five we have a network of agents around the world. We do the donkey work, and the agents ensure that our secrecy is maintained and help out if needed." He straightened up. "Do you want to have a rest, before you get shown 'round?"  
  
"Not likely. I'm raring to get started."  
  
"Okay, I think Fathers worked out who's showing you where, so we'll head back down to the lounge."  
  
They entered the lounge. It seemed incredible to Neil that he was looking at the entire working crew of International Rescue.  
  
Jeff stood up. "Grab a cup of coffee and have a seat."  
  
Neil took a cup. "Thanks."  
  
Jeff leant back in his chair. It was the most relaxed that any of the Tracy's had seen him for a long time. "So Neil, no doubt you want to learn more about us, and we certainly want to learn about you."  
  
Neil settled down in a comfortable chair. He was already beginning to feel at home. He learnt how Jeff had been brought up on a Kansas wheat farm. How Jeff had had to bring up his five sons with his mothers help after Jeff's wife, Lucille died. How Jeff had been a respected astronaut, one of the last men on the moon and how he'd given up the excitement of space travel to care for his family. He had a brief lesson in how Jeff had used his engineering skills to build up a successful business empire, how a desire to help others took hold and grew.  
  
The rest of the family then took over. Neil learned how Scott had been educated at Oxford and Yale and decorated during his time in the Air Force. How Virgil had been received degrees at The Denver School of Advanced Technology. How Gordon had been a champion Olympic swimmer and a member of the World Aquanaut Security Patrol. How John had followed in his fathers footsteps, becoming an astronaut as well as developing a passion for communications. He also learnt how Alan was a successful racecar driver and had trained to become an astronaut after being expelled from Colorado University.  
  
"He launched a rocket through the Dean's window." Gordon laughed.  
  
"Not on purpose," Alan protested. "It was meant to go vertically, but one of the stabilisers came loose and it went off course."  
  
"Still was Father ever mad after that escapade. He made us leave the house and we could still hear him giving you a rollicking, from the garden."  
  
Alan sought to change the subject. "We haven't heard from Tin-Tin yet. She was top in her classes."  
  
"What did you study?" Neil asked.  
  
"Higher Mathematics, Advanced Technical Theory and Engineering" She replied modestly.  
  
"She's a big help for Brains." Jeff added. "And Brains is the brains behind most of our craft and equipment. What he doesn't know about anything, isn't worth knowing."  
  
Brains looked at his feet shyly. "I-I do have a r-retentive m-memory." He stammered.  
  
"And the genius to be able to put that knowledge to practical use." Jeff was enjoying praising the young scientist. "I saw him one day at a lecture and I knew straight away that he was the man who could enable my dream to become reality. Without him International Rescue would literally have never got off the ground." Brains blushed.  
  
"Kyrano," Jeff passed on to the figure standing quietly to one side of the room, "has a knowledge of horticulture unsurpassed by anyone else in the world. He's developed several strains of food plants that have helped alleviate world hunger."  
  
Neil stared at the manservant. "Then why is he... I mean..." he stopped embarrassed.  
  
Jeff smiled "Why does he work for me? I've asked him that many times. Kyrano perhaps you could answer that better than I could."  
  
Kyrano bowed. "Mister Tracy is a good man and a good friend. He supported me when my wife died. He paid for my daughter to go to school. I owe him much and this is how I repay him."  
  
"You've repaid us ten-fold Kyrano." Jeff said fondly.   
  
Kyrano bowed low again. "I thank you."  
  
Jeff turned to Lady Penelope. "Penny, do you want to give Neil a run-down on your position in the organisation."  
  
"Really Jeff, I'm sure Neil doesn't want to hear about my small role. I just help where I can." She crossed her elegant legs and smiled in an aristocratic way.  
  
Alan snorted. "'Small role', she says. If it wasn't for Lady Penelope, International Rescue would have been finished a long time ago."  
  
Jeff took up the story. "Penny is our London agent. She may act cool and aloof, but don't ever underestimate her. She's got quite a few tricks up that sleeve of hers. We rely on Penny to close any security holes, with Parker's help of course.  
  
"Parker was the best safe cracker in England..."  
  
"The United Kingdom, hif you would pardon the interruption, Mister Tracy." Parker was affronted.  
  
"Sorry, the United Kingdom, until he met up with Lady Penelope and went straight."  
  
"Hand HI've had more excitement with her than I'd had in 25 years of robbing joints, ah, h-establishments."  
  
"So now, Neil, perhaps you'd like to tell us a bit about yourself."  
  
Neil thought for a moment. "Well I'm 29 years old, and of Maori decent. I was born in Auckland, New Zealand but grew up in a small town just out of Palmerston North. I was involved in Scouts, starting as a Kea and going right through to be a Venturer, gaining my Queens Scout and starting on my pilot's license in the process. Mum was a member of the St John Ambulance, so I joined and spent many Saturday's as a 'Zambuck', that is a first aider, at sporting events.  
  
"Dad was a member of the volunteer fire brigade so when I was old enough I joined too. I was also a member of the local Search and Rescue, which meant that I was involved in searching the Tararua Ranges. I grew to love hiking through the New Zealand bush and had initially planned to be a Ranger with the Department of Conservation. I subsequently changed my mind and did a degree in engineering but shortly after I graduated both of my parents were killed in a car crash. I had no other living relatives to turn to, so I decided after that to become a paramedic so I could help others, maybe prevent someone else's parents dying in the same way.   
  
"Over the last few years I've found being a paramedic to be a bit limiting as you've got to wait for the person to be rescued before you can really work on them and then sometimes you're too late. That's why I've been looking around for another job.  
  
"My hobbies have been abseiling, mountain climbing and I've learnt to play the guitar. Oh, I've run a couple of marathon's too." He added as an afterthought.  
  
Scott whistled. "Phew. That little resume just about puts the rest of us to shame!"  
  
Virgil nodded in satisfaction. "I told you he was the right man for the job." 


	10. One

One  
  
Jeff stood up. "Well Neil, now that we know a little bit more about each other, how would you like to have a look around."  
  
Neil practically leapt to his feet. "Are you kidding. I'm dying to get cracking."  
  
"Fine. Scott perhaps you'd like to take Neil first."  
  
"Sure Dad." Scott unfolded his tall frame and stood up. "Well Neil, from this room you can directly access each of the Thunderbird launch bays."  
  
Neil looked around him. It seemed to be a perfectly normal room. He'd been outside and down the hallway. No signs of any heavy machinery there. There were no other doors to be seen.   
  
"O-kay" he said slowly. "I'll believe you. Thousands wouldn't."  
  
"Naturally, to keep our secret safe the entrances are hidden." Scott told him. "So far we've only had people visit who don't know who we are. I'd be interested to know if you can find any of them, since you know they exist."  
  
"My first test, eh. If I fail do I get kicked out?"  
  
Scott laughed. "No. But if you succeed we go back to the drawing board."  
  
"Okay." Neil scanned the room. "Using logic, the doors can't be on either of these two walls as there is nothing connected to them on the other side. Unless of course there is a false wall and you have to use a lift." A slow grin crept over his face. "That's an elevator to you Americans."  
  
The Tracy's chuckled good-naturedly.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll start with this wall." His eye caught sight of a painting of a rocket, it was marginally taller than he was. "Dad would have loved this room and he would have loved meeting you Mr Tracy. He was mad keen on space and space travel. In fact he named me after Neil Armstrong."  
  
"That's interesting." Jeff said. "I named my boys after some of the space pioneers."  
  
"Really?" Neil spun round. "Let me guess. John Glenn, Alan Shepherd, Scott, um, Carpenter, Gordon..." he snapped his fingers trying recall the name. "Don't tell me. Gordon, Gordon Cooper. That's it. And Virgil..." He stopped. "Virgil? No, I'm sorry mate, you've got me with that one."  
  
"Gus Grissom." Virgil told him evenly.  
  
"Of course." Neil snapped his fingers in recognition. "Gus Grissom. Pilot of Apollo One. I forgot his first name was Virgil." He paused. "Terrible way to die. Burned alive, trapped in a space capsule. And not even in space but in a training session." He turned back to the painting. "This is one of the later rockets isn't it?"  
  
"That's right," said Jeff, "that's the first rocket I flew on, Taurus Four. Virgil did the painting."  
  
"Did you? It's great." Neil examined the painting again before moving on, without noticing the knowing looks that passed between the rest of the group.  
  
Neil finished examining the first wall with no success. "This could take forever. Couldn't you give me a clue or at least tell me if I'm hot or cold."  
  
Everyone else was clearly enjoying themselves. "You've been so cold you could have been on Pluto, and so hot that you could have been on the sun." Gordon told him.  
  
"Really? Where?"  
  
Gordon didn't say anything and just mimed locking his lips together.  
  
'This really is a test.' Neil thought. 'A test of my tenacity. I wonder if I'd get the sack if I gave up. Nah, they've already taken a chance in employing me, their not going to risk International Rescue now by firing me. They just want to see how clever they've been.' He had to admit that they had been very clever. So far.  
  
He found a crack in the wall. "Ah ha."  
  
Gordon took a closer look. "Paint's cracking, Father. Could be caused by vibrations from Thunderbird One taking off."  
  
Jeff examined the wall. "You could be right. I'll add it to the maintenance schedule." He smiled at Neil "Sorry but this is a defect. Let us know if you find any more."  
  
Neil's shoulders slumped. He then squared them again and resumed his search.  
  
Tin-Tin felt sorry for him. "Couldn't we at least give him the general area?"  
  
"Okay." Scott conceded. "The access way to Thunderbird One is in the vicinity of those two lamps."  
  
Neil looked where Scott was pointing. "But I've already checked there and found nothing."  
  
Scott cocked his head at his father who nodded. "Right we've give you this one. You stand between these two lamps..." He demonstrated with his back to the wall. "Push these two buttons, pull the lamps in towards you and..." The section of the wall rotated taking Scott with it. An identical wall section took its place.  
  
Neil was left standing there with his mouth open. "Strewth."  
  
"Pretty slick, eh." Jeff indicated the wall to Neil. "Now it's your turn."  
  
Slightly nervous Neil placed his back against the wall. Grasping the lamps he could just feel the two minute buttons Scott had indicated. He pressed them and pulled the lamps inwards. The lounge disappeared to be replaced by a huge hanger.  
  
Ahead of him stood Thunderbird One.  
  
"Strewth."  
  
"Gives you quite a turn does it?" Neil hadn't noticed Scott standing on the platform beside him and jumped when the other man spoke.  
  
"Yeah, literally."  
  
"Normally I'd step straight out onto this platform, but I waited for you to arrive. Come on." He led the way onto a platform. There was just enough room for the two of them. "Usually this only carries one person, that's why it's a bit of a squeeze. You push this button here..." the platform started to move.  
  
Neil tried to take in his surrounding but his attention was drawn by the rocket plane ahead of him. He looked up past the red nose cone. The roof appeared to be solid granite. "How on earth do you launch it from here?"  
  
"We don't. See that tunnel?" Off to the side a tunnel disappeared down into the earth. "We built this hanger here because it made access easier. Once the pilot is settled, Thunderbird One is conveyed down to its launch pad under the swimming pool."  
  
"The swimming pool?"  
  
"Yeah. It slides back and we blast out through that."  
  
They had nearly reached the door that led to the cockpit of Thunderbird One and Neil leant over the edge of the platform. His eyes followed Thunderbird One's sleek lines down to its base. "Strewth, that's some drop. You'd be instant pancake."  
  
"She's capable of speeds over 15 thousand miles per hour and able to reach heights of up to 150,000 feet."  
  
They stepped into the cockpit. Neil gazed around at the array of electrical equipment that buzzed and glowed and told Scott a million and one things about the state of his aircraft.  
  
"Have a seat." Scott indicated the pilot's seat.  
  
"Thanks." Neil approached the seat as if it may have been the electric chair, regarded it uncertainly and then gingerly sat down. "Comfy."  
  
"Normally I'm the pilot. My job is to fly to the danger zone, ascertain what equipment we need and form a plan of attack. As part of your training you'll be taught how to operate all the craft, including this one." Scott briefly gave Neil a rundown of the instrumentation that was visible from the pilots seat.  
  
"Back here," Scott led the way, "is where we store Mobile Control. I set this up when I get to the danger zone and co-ordinate from there."  
  
"Mobile Control? It's a bit big isn't it?"  
  
"We do rely on transport being provided by the local authorities to transport it. Sometimes it's easier to operate from Thunderbird One herself, and frequently I'm helping out, at the coal face as it were, myself. Brains is working on a smaller version, but retaining all the functions this model carries out. The problem is that he gets side tracked thinking up and manufacturing other equipment that have a more direct bearing on the success of the rescues. So this project is usually on the back burner."   
  
"What else can Thunderbird One do?"  
  
"As far as actual rescues go, it's a bit limited. As I said it's a reconnaissance craft not a rescue vehicle, though it does have a few tricks that enable it to stabilise things until Thunderbird Two arrives. C'mon we'll try her out." They had reached the cockpit again and Scott slid easily into the pilot's seat. He indicated another chair. "Strap yourself tight. We hit 3 g's on take off."  
  
Neil found himself fumbling with the seat belt. Nerves or excitement he wondered.   
  
Scott was talking into the microphone. "Thunderbird One to base. Am moving to launch pad."  
  
His father's voice came over the air. "F.A.B."  
  
"What did he say?" Neil wasn't sure if he'd heard it correctly.  
  
"F.A.B. It's our call sign to say that the message has been received, understood and will be carried out. Are you strapped up?"  
  
"Ye... ah F.A.B."  
  
"Okay here we go." Scott moved a lever forward and the plane started to move forwards and down.   
  
Inside the cockpit they were blind to what was drifting past them. "We'll get visibility once we launch." Scott explained.  
  
The craft halted. 'That was easy enough' Neil thought.  
  
Once again Scott spoke into the microphone. "Thunderbird One to base. Cleared for take off?"  
  
There was a pause as Jeff checked the radar. "You're clear to go."  
  
"F.A.B." He looked over his shoulder at Neil. "Hang on!"  
  
Neil found himself gripping the edges of the seat.  
  
Scott pushed another lever forward. Thunderbird One seemed to pause before gathering momentum. Upwards they shot. Neil found himself being forced backwards into his chair, his limbs felt as if they had lead weights attached to them. Then suddenly they felt free.  
  
"Switching to horizontal flight." Scott moved another lever. The gimbals on both seats swivelled allowing both men to keep a vertical alignment. When the operation was complete he looked back at Neil. "How'd you like that?"  
  
"Great! Better than a roller coaster ride."  
  
"We'll circle the island a few times and go in to land. I'll stabilise her and you can get up and have a look at the view." The viewing portals had slid open and Neil untangled himself from the seat belt and made his way to the window. He looked back the way they'd come.  
  
"Where'd those wings come from? I don't remember seeing them before."  
  
"They're retractable. They stabilise Thunderbird at lower speeds."  
  
They circled the island three times. On the third approach Scott bought Thunderbird One to hover over the pool. It looked perfectly normal to Neil.  
  
"Thunderbird One to base. I'm coming in to land in a moment but can you retract the pool now so Neil can see where we're going."  
  
"F.A.B. Scott. After you've landed we'll have lunch."  
  
Below them Neil could see the pool receding as the launch pad beneath was exposed to the world. "Clever."  
  
The landing was more comfortable than the launch had been. "Do you have to have such an explosive launch from the danger zone?" Neil asked.  
  
"No. Normally we land on its side, which means that we can offload easier. We're not as streamlined when we take off so it's a lot gentler.  
  
*****  
  
The platform was waiting for them when the door slid open. Scott stepped on board. "I'll give you a clue as to where the next door is. See that tube." Just beside the access way to the lounge was a large, corrugated tube. It came out from the wall, turned a right angle and disappeared through another wall. "Remember that."  
  
"O-kay."  
  
Jeff was the only one in the lounge when they arrived back. "How'd you enjoy that?"  
  
"Great. Can't wait till I'm allowed to have a go."  
  
"Good. We'll get you started on the simulator in a couple of days and when we're satisfied you're proficient enough we'll move onto the real thing. I warn you though," Jeff's face took on an expression of mock gravity, "Scott doesn't like it when anyone damages his bird."  
  
Neil matched the expression with one of his own. "I'll remember that."  
  
"Where is everyone?" Scott asked.  
  
"Getting lunch ready." At that moment Tin-Tin appeared in the doorway.   
  
"Lunch is ready Mr Tracy."  
  
"Great, I'm starved." Scott headed for the doorway.  
  
"You're always starved." Tin-Tin admonished him. "Don't forget we have extra people this time." 


	11. Air and Sea

Air & Sea  
  
After lunch Neil sat back, replete. Despite Tin-Tin's concerns there had been plenty of food to go around. "That was great Mrs Tracy. I can see why you're regarded as the most important member of the team."  
  
"Why thank you Neil." She said almost girlishly. "It's nice to know that I'm appreciated."  
  
"Well, shall we move on?" Jeff asked rising from the table.  
  
Neil leapt to his feet. "I get to see Thunderbird Two now, right."  
  
"That's right." Virgil stood up. "We showed you Thunderbird One before lunch because she operates under a weight restriction. And after Scott's eaten, she can't take the weight." He ducked a napkin that his brother threw at him.  
  
"And we're showing you Thunderbird Two after lunch because she's able to lift the excess weight that Virg.'s carrying." Scott ducked as Virgil pretended to through the napkin back at him, but instead threw it into the laundry bin.  
  
They returned to the lounge.  
  
"Do I have to try to find Thunderbird Two's access way?"  
  
"We'd like you to try." Jeff told him.  
  
"Let's see... Scott pointed out a tube..."  
  
"Oh he did, did he?" Virgil glared at Scott.  
  
"It was on this side..." Neil had his back to the wall. "About this far from the door..." He paced it out and stood facing the wall. "But there's no lamps here. So either you've put me crook, or there's a different mechanism involved." He started to examine the wall. "I guess the painting could be a door." He pulled at the painting of 'Taurus Four' experimentally and pushed on the frame. "You wouldn't touch the painting itself or else you'd see the finger marks." He ran his fingers around the edge of the picture. "There's no hidden catches or hinges." He turned to the others. "Am I getting warm?"  
  
"Toasty." Virgil told him.  
  
"Great. So how do you open it."  
  
"Shall I show him?" Virgil asked.  
  
The others murmured their assent.  
  
Virgil strode towards the painting and turned so his back was resting against it. "You might want to take a step back." He said. "I wouldn't want to kick you in the face."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Virgil smiled. "See you down there." The painting rotated, tipping his feet higher than his head and he slid out of sight. The picture settled back into place.  
  
"Strewth." Neil stared at where Virgil had been. "Do I have to go down the same way?"  
  
"Only if you want to land in his lap." Scott told him.  
  
"Gordon will take you down in the passenger elevator." Jeff said.  
  
"Right." Gordon affirmed "Come on." He led the way to the hidden lift.  
  
Virgil wasn't actually sitting in the pilot's seat when his passengers arrived in the cockpit. "Welcome to Thunderbird Two."  
  
"Thanks." Neil frowned. "Do you have to travel all the way down here upside down?"  
  
Virgil chuckled. "Fortunately no. That tube that Scott pointed out is the chute that I slide along. After a few feet you will have noticed that it has a sharp corner. I rotate, within the tube, at that point and continue on down feet first. The chute extends out from the ceiling of Thunderbird Two's hanger and through a hatch on Thunderbird Two. It comes down through there," he pointed at a closed hatch at the back of the cabin, "until it reaches here." He tapped the seat. "It then bends into three and detaches from the main part of the chute. It's like a giant slide."  
  
"Wow, ingenious." Neil looked out of one of the observation windows. "Where are we?"  
  
"Inside the cliff. If you look out to the right you'll see a conveyor belt." Virgil flipped a switch and the conveyor belt started moving. A series of pods came into view. "We'll choose pod Four and Gordon can show you his baby."  
  
Neil was confused. "You pilot a pod?"  
  
Gordon laughed. "No, it's what's inside that's my, ah, baby."  
  
Pod Four had settled underneath Thunderbird Two's bulk. Virgil flicked another switch and Thunderbird Two started a graceful decent. "Each pod becomes part of the fuselage. By being able to detach the pod from Thunderbird Two she is able to carry out other duties while the equipment the pods contain is being unloaded." The plane stopped it's decent with a gentle thump.  
  
After checking that the coast was clear Virgil opened the hanger door. Soon Neil was able to see the palm trees swaying in the cool afternoon breeze. "You'll never get through there. Do this wings on this thing retract too?"  
  
"No, but the trees do."   
  
"What?"  
  
As if on cue the palm trees all fell backwards away from the runway. Virgil guided the transporter craft down to the other end of the runway and stopped. To Neil's surprise the big plane started to tilt up so it's nose was facing into the air.  
  
"You'd better come and sit next to me." Gordon told Neil.  
  
Another check on the radar and Thunderbird Two roared into life. Neil felt the 'plane shake as it lifted it's bulk off the launch pad and into the air. They went a few hundred feet out over the ocean and stopped.  
  
Virgil turned to his brother. "Right Gordo'. Let me know when you want me to drop you off."  
  
Gordon gave him a mock salute. "Righto." He led Neil down into the pod.  
  
At first Neil was amazed by the size of the pod, realising that he was in fact inside a plane. Then he became aware of a small yellow craft resting a slipway.  
  
"This," Gordon told him, "is my 'baby.' Thunderbird Four."  
  
"Wow. It seems so small."  
  
"She has to be, to be able to be transported around the world. She's only 30 feet long, but she's strong. She's been tested up to depths of 25,000 feet and Brains reckons she should be able to withstand greater pressures than that." They walked over to the submarine. "Here we have lights, which can be lowered to expose a cannon."  
  
"A cannon?"  
  
"For clearing debris. Also handy for scaring off giant squid."  
  
Neil stared at Gordon. He'd already picked him as being the joker of the family and he wasn't sure whether or not to believe him now.  
  
"In here," Gordon climbed onto Thunderbird Four and opened its hatch, "is the cockpit." He jumped down inside. Neil followed him.  
  
Inside it seemed comparatively roomy. "Here we have the airlock, spare breathing apparatus, rescue gear..." Gordon quickly rattled off the points of note. "Have you done any scuba diving?"  
  
"I've done the odd bit of snorkelling, but not scuba diving."  
  
"Doesn't matter, I'll show you the ropes. Do you fancy going for a quick spin in her now?"  
  
"I'd love to."  
  
"Okay, take a seat and strap in. Ah, not that one, you'd better sit in a seat with a head rest."  
  
Neil obliged wondering why he'd been given that directive.  
  
Gordon settled into his seat. "Okay Virgil. Let us go."  
  
"F.A.B."  
  
Neil suddenly experienced a falling sensation, which was cut short with a sudden jolt. The headrest saved his head from snapping back from the concussion. "What happened?"  
  
"Thunderbird Two dropped the pod. It's only a drop of about thirty feet."  
  
"Wish you'd warned me."  
  
"You get used to it."  
  
The door to the pod was starting to swing open. Sunlight came streaming in. The slipway extended out into the sea.  
  
Gordon gunned the motors. "Right, off we go."  
  
Neil prepared himself for another jolt, but the entry into the water was surprisingly gentle. Gordon adjusted the buoyancy compensators and the sub started to sink.  
  
Neil was soon caught up in a magical world that he had, up till now, only been able to explore the fringes of. He stood at Gordon's shoulder drinking in the sight spread out before him.  
  
"Look at that!" He pointed at a brightly coloured fish that cruised slowly past them.   
  
"That's an orange slimyfish. It's a species that is only found off these islands. And that's a spade ray, and there's a planktonfish." Gordon reeled of the names of dozens of other animals. Neil was quietly impressed - so the joker had a serious side after all.  
  
"I wish I had your knowledge."  
  
"It takes time, and it's easier to remember when you meet them face to face."  
  
Another voice broke in. "Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird Four. You to ready to go home."  
  
Gordon looked questionly at Neil who sighed and nodded. "Affirmative Virgil. We're returning to the surface."  
  
The sub broke the surface of the water and skimmed along until it met up with the gaping mouth of the pod. It motored up the slipway and the door closed behind it.  
  
Seeing Neil's slightly worried face, Gordon comforted him. "Don't worry. For us this is the easy part."  
  
Once back in the cockpit of Thunderbird Two, Neil admired Virgil's skill as he flew over the runway, turned and landed. A feather on a balloon couldn't have made a softer landing. He was even more impressed by the feat when, after returning the craft to it's hanger, they stepped outside to have a look at the aircraft.  
  
"It's huge!"  
  
"250 feet long, 60 feet high and she has a wing span of 180 feet. She needs to be that big, to be able to carry all the heavy duty equipment." Gordon had stayed behind to clean down Thunderbird Four, so Virgil was giving Neil the tour of the hanger. "Down here is where we store the rescue vehicles." Virgil pointed out 'The Mole', 'The Firefly' and the other vehicles, giving each the briefest description of its duties. There would be time for more detailed descriptions later. 


	12. Space

Space  
  
Virgil looked at his watch. "We'd better get back. I know Alan's dying to show you Thunderbird Three."  
  
"That must be the space ship." Neil paused. "Scott gave me a hint as to where the entrance to Thunderbird Two was. Any chance of you giving me a hint for finding Thunderbird Three."  
  
Virgil thought for a moment. "All I can say is that if you look for a similar access way to Thunderbird Three as there was for Thunderbird's Two and One, you'll be way off beam."  
  
Neil screwed up his face. "Thanks, that's a big help."  
  
Back in the lounge the family were once again waiting for them. Jeff at his desk dictating a letter to Tin-Tin who was seated at another table. Grandma was resting in an easy chair knitting, Kyrano and Parker were holding an earnest conversation about something and Lady Penelope was explaining to Brains her idea for a new hidden gadget. Scott and Alan were seated on a green couch, talking.  
  
Neil bounced into the room. "Now for Thunderbird Three!"  
  
Alan spoke up. "Let's see if you have more luck this time."  
  
"Right. I doubt that it will be accessed from this wall," Neil pointed to the wall that hid the access way's to Thunderbird's One & Two and winked slyly at Virgil, "so you must access it from somewhere else." He paused to think. "So far we've rotated horizontally and vertically and I guess you'd use a different method this time to confuse would be villains. Maybe a lift?"  
  
Alan frowned.  
  
Neil stepped up onto the level that led to the veranda and looked around. None of the pictures here were big enough to conceal a doorway. He was beginning to get a little tired of this game. "I know," he snapped his fingers, "you play a chord on the piano and a door opens." His fingers played a 'ta da' on the keyboard, "OR the piano is actually Thunderbird Three itself!"  
  
Jeff grinned and looked at his watch. "It's getting late so we'd better show you. Alan?"  
  
Alan nodded and patted a spare square of cushion on the couch between himself and Scott. "You get a good view of the opening if you sit here."  
  
"You do?" Neil sat down beside the youngest Tracy and looked around him. "I don't see anyth...WOAH!" The room suddenly seemed to rise up away from him and it took him a second to realise that the couch had actually sunk into the floor. "I don't believe this." Another identical couch sped upwards past them and he followed its progress as it slotted into the hole vacated by their own seat.  
  
They reached the bottom and started to slide along to their right. Ahead of them the great red body of Thunderbird Three rose up into an enormous chasm. Neil gapped at the craft, craning his neck to take it all in. He had little chance memorise the space ships sleek lines as the couch carried them under the base of the ship. They stopped dead centre and started to rise. Neil took one last look around them as they were swallowed up by Thunderbird Three.  
  
The couch came to a stop inside a circular room. Both Alan and Scott stood up and Neil followed suit.  
  
"That was fantastic! It's huge!"  
  
Alan grinned. "287 feet high. You ain't seen nothin' yet. Strap yourself into that seat. We'll be launching in about three minutes." He walked over to a lift that stood waiting for him and disappeared upwards.  
  
Scott ensured that Neil had tightened his seat belt securely before he too strapped himself into another chair. "You thought it was exciting taking off in Thunderbird One." He said. "Wait till you experience this. We hit 25,200 miles per hour just to escape Earth's gravity" He spoke into a microphone. "We're ready Alan."  
  
"F.A.B."  
  
Neil could feel the vibrations of the craft as it built up enough power to leave the ground. A sudden fear gripped him. He had often dreamed of space travel but had never thought that he would experience it. And here he was strapped into a giant space ship. What if it should explode! What if he couldn't handle space travel! What if he was space sick! That would be too embarrassing. He held his breath.  
  
A lurch told them that they had left the ground and were powering towards the heavens. Gradually the pressure built up and Neil found himself being pressed back into the chair. He failed to see the need for seat belts as was unable to move his arms and legs. Then he found that the pressure was lessening.   
  
"Leaving Earth's atmosphere." Alan's voice seemed to come from miles away.  
  
Scott undid his seat belt and stood up. Neil followed suit, amazed that he was now able to move so freely. "That," he said with feeling, "was something!"  
  
Scott smiled. "Are you feeling okay? Space flight can upset some peoples equilibrium."  
  
"Yeah, I feel fine."  
  
"C'mon we'll go up to the flight deck."  
  
They stepped out of the lift to find Alan working at a control panel. "How did you find the launch?"  
  
"Better than I expected."  
  
Alan patted the console. "She's a good craft. She'll take care of you. You probably heard about the time that we had to rescue the space ship 'Sunprobe' from the Sun."   
  
Neil nodded. "There was some concern that you guys would fail to make it back!"  
  
"We went much closer than we thought was possible in Thunderbird Three, but she held together and we didn't experience any radiation leaks or degradation of the hull."  
  
"It was mighty hot though!" Scott remembered.  
  
Neil stared at the console. "How far and fast can you go?"  
  
Alan thought for a moment. "Speed depends on a various number of factors, such as amount of debris about, and the amount of fuel on board. We've never really pushed her to her limit. As far as distance goes the human factor is the weak link. Once we're moving in space we can shut off the motors and Thunderbird Three will keep moving at the same velocity, until something impedes her momentum. We can carry a certain amount of food and we manufacture our own oxygen, but both of these are finite resources. So the only thing that can limit the distance we can travel, is how long we can survive ourselves."  
  
"Not a experiment I'd be willing to try."  
  
"No, me neither. Most of Thunderbird Three's work is within Earth's gravitational pull and it's main task is ferrying supplies between home and Thunderbird Five. Still you get some great views from up here." He motioned towards one of the portholes. "Take a look. We've picked a fantastic day. There's hardly a cloud over the Southern Hemisphere."  
  
Neil wondered over to the window and looked out. Below him, receding into the distance was the blue/green planet he called home. "Strewth. It's beautiful. Look! There's New Zealand!"  
  
Drifting below him, in a wide expanse of ocean, a group of islands stretched out in a line pointing to the curved surface of the planet. As Thunderbird Three's trajectory headed further north the line disappeared over the horizon. Neil pressed himself into the porthole's glass to try to catch one further look at his native land. He was aware of a feeling of homesickness.  
  
He became aware of Scott standing at his shoulder. "Takes your breath away doesn't it. No matter how many times I make this trip it never fails to give me a thrill. The view is always different, yet the same." He nudged Neil. "Come over to this side and you'll get your first view of Thunderbird Five."  
  
With one last yearning look at Planet Earth Neil followed Scott to the other side of the cabin. Ahead lay their target. From this angle it looked round and flat with a variety of aerials protruding. Neil could just make out the words "International Rescue" written mirror image on the windows. He stared at it. "Reminds me of that round building you've got on the island."  
  
Scott laughed. "We didn't tell you did we? The round house is what conceals Thunderbird Three's launch bay."  
  
"How does it do that?"  
  
Alan was listening to the conversation. "The structure is shaped like a donut and made of flame retardant materials. Thunderbird Three just blasts off straight through the middle of it. You wouldn't know there was anything odd about it unless you were directly overhead, and even then we keep the launch bay covered until we need to access it."  
  
They were swinging alongside Thunderbird Five and Neil could see that the satellite wasn't completely round, but had what appeared to be a tube sticking out from one end. Alan spoke into the microphone.  
  
"Thunderbird Three to Thunderbird Five. Come in John."  
  
There was a brief crackle of static and John Tracy's voice came drifting over the airways.  
  
"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Three. Good to see you little brother. Got our newest member with you?"  
  
"Sure have. He's had a look around our place and now he's come to visit yours."  
  
"Great. Gets a bit lonely up here sometimes with only the stars to keep me company."  
  
"Awwww. Wait till we board and then I'll serenade you with my violin."  
  
"I don't know that I'd want to hear that. It would've been better if you'd brought Virg. and the piano. "  
  
"I'm sure Scott would oblige you with a song." Alan glanced at Scott who screwed up his face.  
  
"That sounds nearly as bad! Okay. You're cleared to dock."  
  
"F.A.B." With practised ease Alan guided Thunderbird Three into the docking bay. A light on the control panel glowed green. "Right we're cleared to open the hatch." He pushed a button and stood up. "Come on Neil. Time to meet the second oldest of our clan."  
  
The door slid back to reveal the interior of Thunderbird Five, all flashing lights and chattering voices and yet there was only one person present. John Tracy wearing his blue International Rescue uniform with violet sash extended his hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you in person, Neil."  
  
"Thanks. Nice to meet you too." Neil looked around. "Strewth. You live here?"  
  
"For three months at a time yes. Then Alan relieves me for one month."  
  
"Don't you get bored?"  
  
"No. My hobby is astronomy and I get a better view of the stars from out here than I could ever hope to get on earth. I've written a couple of books on the subject."  
  
"They've sold well too." Scott added. "He's also discovered several galaxy's and quasars."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"A very distant star-like source of intense radio energy emitted at much longer intervals than those of a pulsar." John explained.  
  
Neil still looked confused.  
  
Scott handed John a bag. "I'll give him one of your books to read. Grandma sent you some freshly baked apple pies."  
  
"Great! That's the one thing I miss, home cooking."  
  
Scott turned to Neil. "Nice to know that his family is important to him."  
  
John was inspecting the contents of the bag. "Just want to make sure that Scott didn't have a snack on the way up."  
  
"No I didn't, and if you want to check you can call Grandma and ask."  
  
John laughed and stored the pies in a fridge in the galley area.   
  
Neil was staring awe-struck at his surroundings. "This is fantastic!" he breathed.  
  
John began the guided tour. "This is the galley, here we have our hydroponics garden for fresh fruit and vegetables." The plants were all green and lush looking. Their fruits plump and juicy. "This is the living quarters. We try to keep the same sleep cycle as back at the island, on earth, so the lighting mimics earth's patterns, with the windows adjusting the amount of light they let in automatically. Of course up here we have a great source of natural light from the sun, with no overcast days. I'm above the ozone layer here and don't have any of earth's natural sunscreen, so the windows are UV protected." The tour continued on.  
  
"This is the library. All books are contained in electronic format to reduce space and there is an extensive number of video titles of all sorts of genre.   
  
"Here's the gym. I can't just wander outside for a walk, so we have a full range of equipment and Brains is always coming up with new ideas to keep it interesting.   
  
"And finally here we are back in the main communications room. From here we can pick up just about any radio or tele-link signal from earth."  
  
"But how do you sort through this mess of signals to hear a mayday call?" Neil wanted to know. All he could hear was a gabble of voices.  
  
"The computer is programmed to isolate any message containing words such as help, emergency and International Rescue, in all the known languages of the world."  
  
Neil could hear a note of pride in John's voice as he showed off his 'baby'. He'd heard that same tone in all the Tracy brothers as they'd shown him their rescue vehicles. He felt jealous but realised that he would have to wait before he would have the opportunity to experience that sense of pride. Another thought occurred to him.  
  
"One question." He asked. "How come we're not weightless? I always thought that this far out we'd be floating about the place."  
  
"Another of Brains' inventions," John told him. "An artificial gravity compensator. It's fitted to both Thunderbird's Three and Five so that we can keep a firm grip on things."  
  
The never-ending chatter of voices was suddenly overridden by a now familiar voice.  
  
"Jeff Tracy calling Thunderbird Five."  
  
John crossed the floor in two strides and picked up the microphone.  
  
"Go ahead Father."  
  
"Just checking up on how things are going."  
  
"Great. We've just finished the grand tour."  
  
"Fine. It's getting late and Grandma's getting dinner ready. Are those boys ready to come home."  
  
John glanced at the other three. Scott nodded. "Yep. They'll be leaving shortly."  
  
"Okay Son. I'll talk to you soon."  
  
"F.A.B. Father. Tell Grandma thanks for the pies. I don't think Scott had any on the trip up!"  
  
Jeff laughed. "Glad to hear it."  
  
John signed off. "Looks like you're required back at base."  
  
*****  
  
On the trip back to Earth Neil strained to catch another glimpse of New Zealand but most of the Pacific Ocean was now cloaked in darkness. Tracy Island itself was just saying goodbye to the last rays of the sun as Thunderbird Three returned home.  
  
Jeff was waiting alone in the lounge when they arrive back. "What did you think?"  
  
"Fantastic." Was all that Neil could think to reply.  
  
"John was the most talkative I've heard him for a long time." Alan commented. "He's always been the quiet one of the family and today we couldn't get him to shut up."  
  
"He's proud of Thunderbird Five and wanted to show it off," Neil hypothesised. "You've all been pretty talkative about your respective craft. I guess none of you have had much of a chance to 'show off'."  
  
Gordon appeared at the door. "That's good timing. Dinner's ready."  
  
*****  
  
Dinner was once again a gastronomic delight in Neil's eyes. "Ka pai te kai. Mrs Tracy" he said. "That was another great meal. I can't remember when I last ate so well. You'd better introduce me to the gym so I can work it off."  
  
Jeff sat back. "One day without exercise won't hurt you." He said. "Make the most of it. Tomorrow we start training."  
  
"I'm looking forward to it."  
  
"On a more serious note, Neil. I want you to think about what you've let yourself in for. This is a dangerous occupation and I don't want you to think anything else. I suppose, in some respects, I should apologise for not letting you know what you're in for..."  
  
"You don't need to Mr Tracy. I've got a fair idea from my other rescue work."  
  
"I'm sure you have. I don't want to sound morbid, but I would like you to think about drawing up a will. One of the reason's why you were selected was because you have no ties, but you've still got to think about what you want us to do, should the worst happen."  
  
Neil shrugged carelessly. "All my worldly possessions are in my back pack. Just chuck me and it into Thunderbird Two's jets and turn it on. That'll take care of all problems."  
  
"No way!" Virgil looked horrified. "I'd be the one who'd have to switch it on. And I'm not having bits of you clogging up the works."  
  
The others laughed, relieved that what had turned into a rather depressing conversation had suddenly been lightened.  
  
"On a more cheerful note," Jeff continued on with a smile, "we'll have to get you measured up for a uniform too. You'll have noticed that each of the boys has a different coloured sash. Brains has one coloured brown. Any thoughts as to what colour you'd like?"  
  
Neil thought for a moment. "Black!"  
  
The others were astounded. "Black?"  
  
"Either that or aqua. Both of them are colours that New Zealand uses to represent itself at various events. Black is the most common. We've a world champion rugby team called the "All Blacks." So other teams have called themselves things like... the "Tall Blacks" for the national basketball team, "Black Ferns" for the women's rugby, "Black Sox" for softball, "Black Caps" for cricket. The first non-American yacht to win and hold onto the 'America's Cup' was called "Black Magic." It's supposed to be a stimulating colour too. Aqua represents the clean green image of the land and the blue of the sea and is a more calming colour."  
  
"And you're sure you want black rather than aqua?" Jeff queried.  
  
"Yeah. My St John uniform was black and white, so I'll feel right at home."  
  
"Okay then. Black it is." 


	13. New Experiences 1

New Experiences 1  
  
Despite the excitement of the day and his new surroundings Neil dropped off to sleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. His dreams were filled with weird and wonderful images. He was flying at 7,000 miles per hour in Thunderbird One. Racing for the stars, piloting Thunderbird Three. Using Thunderbird Two's grabs to rescue his parents from that on coming car...  
  
He was jarred awake at 2.00 am by the sounds of a klaxon and running feet. He struggled to remember where he was when suddenly the memories of the previous day came back to him in a flash.  
  
A rescue! He was part of International Rescue and this must be a call out. He leapt out of bed whipped on some clothes and galloped down the hallway.  
  
The rest of the team were already there, still garbed in their sleepware. No one acknowledged him as they listened to the report John was giving from his portrait.  
  
"...Down the mine shaft." He was saying.  
  
"And there's no way the rescue authorities can reach them?" Jeff asked.  
  
"Negative. The ground there is pretty unstable and has been fenced off for years. They think the kids must have found a hole in the fence and climbed through."  
  
"Okay," Jeff acknowledged, "see what other information you can find out about the terrain and radio it through. I'm dispatching Scott now." He nodded at his oldest terrestrial son who turned and headed to the twin lamps on the wall. Wordlessly Scott grasped the lamps and swivelled around out of sight. Neil was torn between the desire to see Thunderbird One being launched and a wish to be included in the rescue.  
  
"Virgil..." Jeff continued on, "...you'll need the Mole and other mine rescue gear. Take Alan and Gordon with you." Neil's heart sank.  
  
After the Tracy boys had all left the room Neil stood there aimlessly. It was too dark outside to see either craft launch and he clearly wasn't needed this time. He was about to speak when the night sky outside was suddenly lit with a fiery glow. The accompanying roar announced Thunderbird One's departure. He rushed to the window and watched the rocket plane streak away into the sky. It was the merest pinpoint of light in the distance when a faint light became visible from where he surmised the cliff face would be. Slowly the light became more defined and he strained his eyes to see the next chapter in the unfolding drama.   
  
The light was partially obliterated as the bulk of Thunderbird Two passed through the cliff opening. The giant craft was only a silhouette against the ill-defined terrain. The illumination from the cliff disappeared as the doors swung shut. Neil could just make out Thunderbird Two's nose being lifted towards the heavens until...  
  
The flash of light blinded him temporarily as his eyes struggled to adjust from near perfect darkness to the fiery glow of a jet blast. He looked away for a moment to rest his eyes and then looked back to see the 'plane leave the island's environs. Compared to it's sister ship is seemed rather sluggish but he knew it was flying at a speed greater than any aeroplane belonging to any other organisation.   
  
When he could no longer see Thunderbird Two's fiery trail he turned back into the room. "Mr Tracy?"  
  
Jeff looked up as if he hadn't realised the Neil was standing there. "Yes?"  
  
"Is there anything I can do?"  
  
Jeff looked at the newcomer sympathetically. "Not at the moment. It's all up to the boys now." He laid a pen on his desk and sat back. "Sorry we couldn't include you on this rescue, but obviously you'll have to undergo some training before you'll be able to help. Anyway," he chuckled, "we can't let you loose on the unsuspecting public before we get you clad in a uniform."  
  
Neil smiled. "Like Superman eh? Once I'm in uniform no one will recognise my face."  
  
Jeff laughed. "Something like that. Anyway this will give you the chance to observe operations from this end. And you'll find out that most of what we do back here at base is wait. So if you want to go back to bed..."  
  
"No way! I'm not missing a thing."   
  
Kyrano walked into the room carrying a tray and set it onto the desk. "Your coffee Mr Tracy." He retreated from the room.  
  
"Thanks Kyrano." The tray contained a coffee-pot and two cups. Jeff started filling one of the cups. "Would you care for one Neil?"  
  
"Thanks." Neil accepted the proffered cup and sat down on one of the green sofas. It gave him a funny feeling to know that one flick of a switch and he would be boarding Thunderbird Three. "I came in a bit late. What's the story with this rescue?"  
  
"It appears that four kids disregarded a fence and some warning notices and trespassed onto some old mining land. The ground is pretty unstable and one of the boys fell down a mine shaft. The other three managed to raise the alarm, but the local rescue authorities don't have the equipment to mount a rescue in such unstable conditions."  
  
"How is he?"  
  
"We don't know. The kids say they didn't hang around to find out, they just ran to get help."  
  
Neil sipped his coffee and stared out the window into the night. "Well I hope it's daylight where they're going."  
  
"Should be about 9 am, local time, by the time they get there."  
  
*****  
  
The time was actually 8.59 am when Scott touched down in a railway yard next to the mine. He quickly left Thunderbird One and was greeted by the police sergeant who was waiting for him.  
  
"Are we glad to see you!" The sergeant shook Scott's hand.  
  
Scott smiled a greeting. "Any further word on the boy?"  
  
The policeman shook his head. "No. His name's Clark and his friends are in the railway station over there. They should be able to give you more information about what you're up against."  
  
"Great. If you can give me a hand with some gear, I can set it up in the station while we wait for Thunderbird Two to arrive."  
  
The station was a large wooden building. It had clearly been an important part of the town in the days when the mine was open, but now many parts of the building were boarded up. The sergeant led Scott into a portion of the building that was still in use. A quick glance at the walls told Scott that the station was now used as a base for a steam train excursion society.  
  
The three boys looked to be aged between six and ten. They were sitting in the cafeteria, drinking soft drinks. The looked startled when they realised that Scott was from International Rescue.  
  
"Hi there." Scott pulled up a chair and sat down in front of them. "I just wanted to find out if you could give us any information that might help us rescue Clark."  
  
The three boys looked at each other and Scott detected an expression of fear in their eyes...  
  
*****  
  
'What am I doing here?' Andrea Simpson gazed at the chaos in front of her. It had seemed to be a good idea at the time. Take a group of twenty, mildly intellectually handicapped children for a steam train ride. The children had loved the idea and had helped with the fund-raising required for the venture. But now... now that two adult helpers had had to pull out with family illnesses it only left two adults, herself and her husband Sam to look after them.  
  
Richard! Don't stand on the seat, you'll dirty it. No Martha, you can't eat your lunch now, it's too early." A dirty face wandered into her line of vision. "Fred! Where have you been?"  
  
"Outside. There's a black mountain! Lucy and I have been climbing it."  
  
"Black mountain? Oh, no, the coal pile! Is Lucy still there? Fred nodded. Sam why had you chosen this time to go and talk to the train engineer.  
  
Andrea shot an exasperated look down the train carriage. Most of the children were sitting down now. "Listen everybody. I have to leave the train for a few moments. I would like everyone to stay sitting in their seats until I get back. Don't eat your lunches. I know! Why don't you all sing the train song while I'm gone. Carol you can lead the song.   
  
"Fred you can come with me and show me where Lucy and the black mountain are."  
  
*****  
  
Martin Battson stared at the brake valve wheel in his hand. This should have been replaced weeks ago!  
  
'Mavis' was a mighty pretty lady. Her jet-black skin shone in the morning sun as she stood proudly in the station yard. Martin was proud of her, spent hours ensuring that she looked just right. But at the moment he was mildly annoyed with her and with those who dallied with her. You couldn't go driving a two hundred tonne steam train with a faulty brake mechanism. Carrying the brake wheel he climbed out of the engine cab and headed towards the workshop.  
  
Clark Storry saw Martin leave the engine and go into the grimy workshop. Keeping low he dashed over to the engine and climbed into the cab.  
  
As he admired the workings of the engine he ran his hands over the levers. Giving one a pull he was rewarded with a hiss of steam from the underside of the loco. Laughing he grabbed another lever and pulled. This time he was rewarded with another hiss of steam and a change in the sounds emanating from the locomotive. A tremor ran through the engine and he quickly jumped to the ground and ran away...  
  
*****  
  
Scott and the sergeant were walking towards where Thunderbird Two had landed. "I'm really sorry about this." The sergeant was saying. "We really had no idea."  
  
"That's okay," Scott told him, "we'd rather be called out when we're not needed than miss saving someone because we weren't notified."  
  
They met up with Virgil, Alan and Gordon who had just alighted from Thunderbird Two.  
  
"You said not to hurry" Virgil greeted Scott with. "What gives?"  
  
"I'm really sorry." The sergeant apologised again. "You've been sent on a wild goose chase."  
  
The crew of Thunderbird Two looked at Scott questioningly. "Four kids out here on holiday." He explained, "Their parents have gone to visit some friends and they found themselves stuck for something to do. They snuck through the fence to explore the mines and decided they'd like a bit of excitement, so they dreamed up the 'friend fallen down the mine shaft story.' Once they found out that International Rescue had been called out they felt the story had gone a bit too far, so they told me everything.   
  
"So there's no Clark?" Alan asked.  
  
"Oh there is. Apparently he's 13 and a bit of a tyrant. He was the one who masterminded the whole idea and told the younger kids to go along with it. They don't know where he is."  
  
Alan grinned, remembering the days of his childhood. "Sounds familiar."  
  
Scott ignored him. "Anyway there's no point us hanging around, so we may as well head home."  
  
"I'm really sorry." The sergeant was about to apologise again when he was interrupted with a shout.  
  
"Sergeant! Sergeant!" It was Martin Battson running towards them.  
  
The sergeant turned to face him. "Marty! What's wrong?"  
  
"The train," Martin was not as young as he would have liked and the effort of running had made him breathless, "the train..."  
  
"What about it?"  
  
"It's a runaway."  
  
"Runaway? What do you mean?"  
  
"It's taken off and there's no one driving it."  
  
"No one? Where's Bill?"  
  
"In the signal room, showing one of the teachers around."  
  
"Teachers? Then the trains full of kids?"  
  
"Yeah and Intellectually handicapped ones at that."  
  
"Couldn't someone operate the emergency brake in the carriage?"  
  
"If the teacher on board thought of it. I doubt that any of the kids would."  
  
At that moment Andrea and Sam Simpson came running over to the group, two coal blackened children in tow. "Can you stop the train? We're supposed to be on board."  
  
Martin whirled round to face her. "So there's no adults on board?"  
  
Andrea looked shocked. "No Sam was having a look around and I was rescuing these two from the coal help." Two grimy faces smiled angelically at the crowd of adults.  
  
Scott spoke up. "I take it it's a steam train."  
  
Martin looked at him suddenly aware that four of the men present were in International Rescue uniforms. "Yes that's right!" Hope gleamed in his eyes.  
  
"Then wouldn't it automatically stop when the firebox was empty?"  
  
"If it were a coal fired loco, yes. But 'Mavis' is oil powered and she's got a full tanker. There's also the problem that there is a 1 in 15 gradient 10 kilometres out of town. She could free wheel all the way to Septsville."  
  
The sergeant turned to the International Rescue crew. "Looks like you're those kids best chance. If that train gets up too much speed and can't take a corner..." He didn't need to finish his sentence.  
  
Scott gave a tight smile. "Looks like we were meant to take this trip after all." He turned to his brothers. "Okay, you three had better get going. One of you will have to be lowered onto the loco and see if you can stop her safely. I'll relay the instructions to you via Mobile Control."  
  
Virgil, Alan and Gordon were nearly at Thunderbird Two when a shout made them pull up short.  
  
"Wait!" It was Martin Battson. "You'll need this!" He thrust a brass wheel into Gordon's hand.  
  
Gordon looked Martin. "What is it?"  
  
"The brake."  
  
Gordon looked at the metal ring with new-found respect. "Yeah, I guess that'll come in handy."  
  
Virgil was already seated in the pilot's seat when Gordon made his way to the cockpit. "Looks like you've been nominated as Engineer" he said. "Want to do this job Gordo."  
  
Gordon shrugged. "I've always dreamed of driving a steam loco. It's not exactly how I imagined it would happen but..."  
  
...They were flying over the runaway train. Virgil adjusted Thunderbird Two's speed to match that of 'Mavis'. He opened the communication link between himself and Mobile Control. "We're overhead Scott, Gordon's going to do the transfer. Any instructions."  
  
"Yeah watch out for those hills. There's some pretty steep cliffs between here and Septsville."  
  
Virgil glanced at his radar. "Yeah, I'm reading them."  
  
"Concentrate on getting Gordon on board safely. They're digging out the schematics now and I'll be able to send the details to him once he's on board."  
  
"F.A.B." 


	14. New Experiences 2

New Experiences 2  
  
Inside the rollicking carriage the children were having a ball. Some were sitting with their noses pressed up against the windows, watching the scenery flash by. Others had decided that they were too hungry for to wait for lunch and were eating. None of them were worried by the absence of their carers.  
  
"What's that?" Richard pointed at a lever situated at one end of the car.  
  
His older brother had schooled Mike up on trains. "It stops the train if you really, really need it to. But if you stop the train when you don't really, really need it to you get into big, big trouble."  
  
"Oh." Richard started at the lever. How could such a little thing get you into big, big trouble? "We'd better not touch it then." The two boys wandered back to their seats.  
  
*****  
  
Gordon stood looking down through the open hatch in Thunderbird Two's underbelly. He'd made air to ground transfers many times and several air to air transfers, but air to train transfers? Below him the loco jumped about alarmingly.  
  
"You ready to go?" Alan shouted at him above the roar of the wind and machinery.  
  
Gordon rechecked that his line was tethered safely, ensured that the brake wheel was tucked securely inside his jump suit and flashed his brother the thumbs up sign.  
  
"We're ready to go." Alan radioed Virgil.  
  
"F.A.B. I'll try and keep Two in line with the engine, AND away from those cliffs."  
  
"F.A.B. I'll keep this line open to keep you informed of developments."  
  
"Right."  
  
Gordon took a deep breath and stepped out onto nothing. The line held and he was slowly lowered towards the old engine.  
  
Virgil eyes darted to the monitor relaying his position relative to the train and then back to the cockpit window. A rocky crag loomed up in front of him. With no time to shout a warning to Gordon and Alan he pulled back on the steering column and Thunderbird Two rose sharply into the air.  
  
Suspended below Thunderbird Two's undercarriage, Gordon was flung about like a rag-doll. "Hey what gives!" he started to yell, when the crag flashed past his feet alarmingly close. "Whew, that was close."  
  
"Gordon!" Alan's voice rang in his ears. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tell Virg. I don't want anymore near misses like that one."  
  
Once again the great plane started to get close to the train. Glancing down Gordon coughed as smoke and steam rushed up to greet him. He glanced up at Thunderbird Two and was struck by the juxtaposition of the two vehicles. Ancient and modern. Both triumphs of their age. Both at some time deemed to be 'state of the art'.  
  
He had no time to continue his musings as Mavis was just over a metre beneath his feet. At that moment the iron horse swung round a corner, Thunderbird Two keeping pace. Centrifugal force swung Gordon out away from the engine. As both train and plane straightened up he once again found himself a metre above his objective.  
  
"I need a metre more." He radioed Alan.  
  
"FAB!" From Alan's position Gordon's progress was largely obscured by the smoke streaming from the funnel.  
  
Gordon was now standing on the roof. "Cut me more slack." He unhooked a magnetic grab from his belt and attached it to the engine's iron cladding. It held firm. "Right I'm disengaging the line." The umbilical cord that connected him to Thunderbird Two swung free.  
  
Mavis rounded another corner!  
  
Gordon was flung sideways and went over the edge!  
  
The magnetic grab held!  
  
As the train straightened up again he took the opportunity to use the momentum to swing into the cab.  
  
The noise was deafening. He freed himself from the cable that tethered him to the magnetic grab and spoke into his telecom.  
  
"Gordon to Mobile Control."  
  
He could just make out Scott's voice. "Mobile Control to Gordon. Receiving you."  
  
Gordon turned the volume up to maximum. "You're going to have to shout, Scott. I can barely hear you."  
  
Scott made a couple of adjustments to Mobile Control. "How's that?"  
  
"Better." Gordon turned to face the bewildering array of levers and wheels and braced himself against the rolling action of the engine. "I'm inside the cab. Now what!"  
  
Scott poured over the plans spread out in front of him, Martin standing at his shoulder pointed to a part of the diagram. "The brake wheel goes there."  
  
"Thanks." Turning back to the microphone Scott relayed instructions to Gordon. "You see where it goes?"  
  
"I think so..." Once again Mavis rounded a corner violently. Once again Gordon was thrown to one side, the brake valve wheel skittering out from his outstretched hand. He lunged at it as the train cornered again and it slid out of his reach towards the open door. Frantically he scrambled after it and managed to loop a finger through just as it started falling into the wildly racing countryside. Hugging it to himself he took a moment to steady his nerves. "That was close." He crawled towards the controls aware of the heat emanating from the firebox. Once in position he slowly stood up.  
  
*****  
  
The children in the train had crossed the line from enjoyment to fear. They had not been warned that the trip would be as rough as this. Those who had initially regarded the bucking ride as something akin to a roller coaster hugged one another. Those who wanted the reassurance of their teachers were starting to panic. Children were screaming and shouting.  
  
Mike looked at Richard. "I think we should pull the lever."  
  
"But we might get into trouble!"  
  
A bag fell out of an overhead locker and hit one of the girls. She started to cry.  
  
"I don't care. I don't like it." Mike stood up and started to make his way towards the lever, dodging flying bodies and bags. A particularly violent turn sent him head first against the bulkhead. He collapsed to the floor and lay still. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face.  
  
"Mike!" Richard cried. "Mike!"  
  
  
  
*****  
  
Back at base Scott was keeping Jeff and Neil up with the play. "The train's nearly reached Septsville and we've just received word that a full oil tanker has broken down on the level crossing."  
  
"That's not good." Jeff commented.  
  
"That's not the worst," Scott told him. "It's bordered by a housing district including a school. Police are evacuating everyone but it's taking time. And," he added, "to keep things really interesting, Martin's just informed me that there's every possibility that the boiler might overheat and explode. Gordon and those kids wouldn't have a chance."  
  
"Um...Couldn't you sort of 'harpoon' the train, somehow, and sort of reverse tow it?..." Neil tapered off, sure that his idea sounded ridiculous.  
  
Jeff looked at him. "That might work! How about it Scott?"  
  
"I'll check what Virgil thinks..." Moments later Scott was back on line. "He says it's a good idea but it won't work with the cliffs around. However there's a clear straight section of track for a couple of miles leading into Septsville. If Gordon doesn't bring the train under control by then we'll try it." He paused. "Good thinking Neil."  
  
Neil smiled shyly.  
  
*****  
  
Up in Thunderbird Two Virgil and Alan were keeping a close watch on events. "There's only ten miles to go. He's cutting it fine." Alan sounded strained.  
  
"Yeah. We might have to resort to Neil's harpoon trick." Virgil glanced at Alan. "You'd better get the harpoon ready. I'll get Thunderbird Two into position." He steered the great plane so that it was directly behind the last carriage. He opened the communication line to Alan. "We're too high at the moment. As soon as we're clear of the cliffs I'll bring her down to the lowest, safest height. We want to pull on the train horizontally not vertically."  
  
"F.A.B." Alan was ready and waiting, strapped into the control seat, a device very much like a harpoon in front of him. He could see the ground whistling below him and tried to estimate their speed. The train was easily doing 150 miles per hour. It was a miracle it hadn't jumped of the tracks.  
  
Back in the locomotive Gordon was having difficulty bracing himself against the forces of the racing train. His hand kept on jumping about as he tried to position the wheel. With a triumphant cry he at last slid the wheel home and turned it as far as it would go. He then grabbed a lever and started applying the brakes.   
  
'Mavis' hit the last curve before the final straight. Gordon grabbed the engineer's chair to steady himself and then resumed pulling on the brake. The wheels started to lock.  
  
"She's not going to stop in time!" Virgil could see Septsville and the tanker in the distance. He lowered Thunderbird Two till the giant plane appeared to be almost running along the ground. "Alan! Fire when ready."  
  
Alan squinted through the cross hairs in the eyepiece. He had the train in his sights. His finger activated the launching mechanism. With a whoosh the 'harpoon' flew from Thunderbird Two's undercarriage and hit home in the rear wall of the guard's van. "Activate retros!" he ordered Virgil.  
  
Virgil reduced Thunderbird Two's speed. The harpoon line grew taut and held. Slowly the train started to slow down, the locked wheels screeching and hissing as sparks flew, the friction causing the metal to glow red.  
  
Looking out through the locomotive's window, Gordon could see the tanker ahead. The driver was still in his cab, frantically trying to get the engine to start. He looked up in fear and seeing the steam train bearing down on him, deserted his vehicle, diving for cover in a nearby ditch.  
  
Virgil applied more reverse thrust, trusting that the rear panel in the carriage would hold. Miraculously it did and 'Mavis', her cowcatcher nudging the tanker slightly, ground to a halt.  
  
Gordon let out the breath that he'd been holding and wiped sweat from his brow. It wasn't only the heat from the firebox that had caused him to perspire. He swung down out of the cab and headed back to the passenger carriages. "Gordon to Virgil. I'm going to check on the kids."  
  
"FAB."  
  
Back at the station the Simpsons and the Engineers were shouting and hugging each other in delight. "It worked!" Sam whooped. "I can't believe that you did it, but it worked!"  
  
Scott received a big hug from Andrea. "How can we thank you people?"  
  
Gordon was issuing instructions to the children. "Right, I want everyone to get off the train and go and assemble by that tree over there. Someone will be along soon to look after you."   
  
Richard tugged at his sleeve. "Mike's sick." He said.  
  
Gordon found Mike, still unconscious, and radioed Mobile Control. "Scott, get an ambulance down here. One of the kids has taken a knock to the head and is out cold. The rest seem to be all right but could do with some reassuring."  
  
"FAB". While the sergeant was radioing for medical help Scott turned to the Simpsons. "I guess you'll be wanting to get to your charges a.s.a.p."  
  
"Yeah," Sam looked at his watch. "We won't be there for at least half an hour on those roads. We'd better get moving." He and his wife started towards the door.  
  
"Just a minute," Scott told them, "give me a hand getting my gear on board Thunderbird One and I'll fly you down. We should be there in five minutes."  
  
"Really?" Andrea brightened at the thought. "You'd do that? That's wonderful."  
  
Thunderbird one actually arrived before the ambulance. Sam and Andrea briefly thanked Scott for the ride and then rushed over to the children, towing Fred and Lucy with them. They were soon swamped in a sea of kids, all talking excitedly, all wanting to tell their version of events.  
  
Scott jogged over to the train and climbed aboard. Inside his brothers were applying first aid to Mike. "How's the kid?"  
  
"He's just come round." Gordon told him. "He's still pretty dazed."  
  
An ambulance officer arrived at the scene. "I hear someone's injured."  
  
"Yeah," Gordon indicated Mike. "Apparently he was thrown against the bulkhead and knocked unconscious. I estimate he's been out for about ten minutes."  
  
"Thanks." The ambulance officers took over tending Mike as the International Rescue team alighted from the train.  
  
"Well done fellas." Scott congratulated his brothers. "You did a good job."  
  
They stopped to look at 'Mavis'. Her cowcatcher was wedged underneath the body of the truck.  
  
"Whew," Alan whistled. "That was close."  
  
Gordon stifled a yawn. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm about ready for bed. Just as well I don't have to fly us home." He gave Virgil a sympathetic pat on the back.  
  
"It's all this excitement," Virgil told him. "You can't take it."  
  
"Really?" Gordon looked affronted. "Do you want me to fly us home?"  
  
Virgil backed away with his hands raised in mock protest. "No thanks. I want to get home in one piece. Besides," he looked at Gordon's grimy hands and clothes, "I don't want anybody getting my machine dirty."  
  
Back at Tracy Island John had finished relaying the good news. "If it hadn't been for that harpoon idea of Neil's things would have been a lot worse."  
  
"You're right," Jeff agreed. "Just as well I hired him. Well done Neil."  
  
Neil looked a little uncomfortable at the comment. "It was nothing really, just an idea, it was the guys who did all the hard work."  
  
"Yyyes," Jeff agreed slowly, "but in this job you also need to be able to think laterally. It's no good us having all this equipment if we can't think of the most effective ways to use it."  
  
"Well," Neil shrugged, "I guess it was seeing Thunderbird Two that gave me the idea. It's a whale of a size, and the shape's not dissimilar." He yawned. Outside it was still dark. It would be at least a couple of hours before the sun would make its appearance.  
  
Jeff noticed the yawn. "Why don't you go to bed. There's nothing else going to happen now. The boys will come home, clean down their machines and go straight to bed themselves. They won't be in the mood for chat, and you'll want to be wide awake when we start training." He leaned back in his seat, his hands clasped behind his head. "Your first International Rescue rescue..."  
  
"My 'second'" Neil reminded him.  
  
"Your 'second' then. How'd you find it?"  
  
"Exciting and frustrating. I won't feel I'm really involved until I get to actually go out on a proper rescue."  
  
"We'll see how you go with the training. You might find you're involved sooner than you think. In the meantime," Neil was stifling another yawn, "go to bed!"  
  
Neil stood up and gave a mock salute. "Yes Sir!"  
  
It wasn't until late in the next day that Neil was able to question the Tracy boys about the previous nights rescue.   
  
They were in the shooting gallery practising with laser guns.   
  
"Wasn't it frightening being lowered onto that train?" Neil asked Gordon.  
  
Gordon shrugged. "I won't say that you get used to being in dangerous situations, but you learn to harness your emotions. It keeps you focused on what's going on around you." He aimed at a target 30 metres away and pulled the trigger. He missed the target. Looking at his gun he muttered "Must need recalibrating."  
  
Neil smiled and watched Scott aim at another target. The target glowed yellow as it registered a hit on the rim. Virgil lined up a target next to his older brother and succeeded in getting a little closer to the bullseye. His target shone orange.  
  
Neil had his second attempt. His first had been a complete failure, this second time he wasn't any better.  
  
They became aware that they had company. Lady Penelope and Parker had witnessed Neil's dismal attempts.   
  
Lady Penelope looked at Neil with sympathy. "Don't worry, I'm sure all you need is a little practice."  
  
Neil glared at his gun, "I don't need a little. I need a lot!"  
  
Scott proffered his gun. "Care to show us how it's done Penny?"  
  
Lady Penelope waved an airy hand. "Now Scott, you know how I dislike such things."  
  
"Yeah, right." Scott didn't sound convinced. "How about you Parker."  
  
"Don't mind hif H'I do." Parker took the gun, inspected it and in one fluid motion raised it to eye level and let off a shot. His target glowed red.  
  
"Bullseye!" Alan clapped Parker on the back. "Good shooting. Didn't realise that marksmanship was part of the safe crackers armoury."  
  
"H'I never carried a gun meself," Parker told him, "but hit was 'andy to know 'ow to use one. 'Cause H'I'm not a patch on 'er Ladyship."  
  
"Sure you don't want a go Penny?" Virgil asked.  
  
"No thank you." Lady Penelope was fiddling with her charm bracelet. "I seem to be having a problem, Neil, would you help me remove this."  
  
"Of course," Neil undid the clasp. "Hey you've got some neat charms on here. Horse, flower, gun, bird, dice, telephone... Do any of these do anything?"  
  
"One or two have their own little secrets." Lady Penelope took the bracelet from him. "Such as this one..." In a movement almost too fast to see she raised the charm shaped like a gun and took aim. The farthest target exploded in a cloud of red sparks. "Dear me, it seems to be rather too powerful. I shall have to get Brains to modify it a little."  
  
Neil was standing there, his mouth hanging open. "Strewth." He eventually managed to say. "The guys were telling me about some of your talents, and I didn't know whether to believe them. I do now."  
  
"Grace, Charm and Deadly Danger, is her motto." Virgil told him. "Never underestimate either Penny or Parker. They'll always surprise you."  
  
"Now my dear boy, don't exaggerate." Lady Penelope told him. "We just help where we can." She turned back to Neil. "We came down to say good bye. I have a charity function that I'm due to attend tomorrow and I'm afraid that I just can't let the Duchess of Royston down. The dear lady would never forgive me."  
  
Neil was unsure how to farewell a titled lady. "Well goodbye Lady Penelope and thank you for recommending me for this job."  
  
"It was my pleasure" Lady Penelope told him. I'm sure that you will fill the position admirably." She turned to leave. "Come Parker we had better, ah, depart."  
  
The Tracy boys weren't at all concerned about protocol. "Yeah, and next time you're here you can give us all lessons in shooting, Parker. We'll make sure Penny gives you some spare time." Scott took his gun back from the butler.  
  
Parker looked pleased that he could teach 'them Yanks', as he affectionately but privately called them, something. "H'it would be my pleasure, Mister Scott."  
  
"Great." Said Scott. "Until next time then..." 


	15. Korekeihea

Korekeihea  
  
Alan reached up and grasped at a small promontory, jutting out from the cliff face. He blinked and turned his head as a small shower of dust temporarily blinded his eyes. His vision cleared and he looked up at the expanse of rock wall that lay before him. The safety line on his rock climbing harness was reassuringly taut above him. He tightened his grip and manoeuvred his right foot into a small crevasse.  
  
"Steady Alan," he thought "take your time and find your grip." But his next goal appeared to be frustratingly out of reach. He analysed the rocky surface above him and made his decision. Putting all his weight on his right arm and leg he made a grab at an outcrop. Even as his fingers closed around the piece of rock he knew that he had made a mistake. As he felt the rock crumble between his fingers he saw, to his horror, the safety rope go slack.  
  
He grabbed at the rope, but it would not hold his weight! With a soft wail he fell backwards and hit the ground with enough force to knock the breath out of him. The chorus of laughter that floated down caused him to look up. Unable to vocalise at that moment, due to a distinct shortage of breath, he contented himself with shaking his fist at his tormentors. It was at least a minute before he was able to articulate his outrage.  
  
"You fools, you could have killed me!"  
  
Neil looked over the edge of the cliff, his laughing face framed by the smiles of Virgil and Gordon. "Sorry mate, but I was taught that when you go rock climbing you should always have at least three points of contact with the rock face. When I saw you make a grab I thought that maybe International Rescue has a different method, and I wanted to see how it worked."  
  
Alan gingerly picked himself up and brushed the gravel from his climbing suit. His elbow was stinging from where he had grazed it on the hard ground. He felt a surge of anger. "Stupid thing to do" he muttered.  
  
Scott appeared by his side. "Neil's right," he said. "You know full well that you can't rely totally on the safety rope. It would have been your own fault if you had been hurt."  
  
Not willing to admit that the worst thing that he had hurt was his pride, Alan turned on his older brother. "Well I hope he doesn't try a dumb stunt like that when we are on a mission." He snapped. "Someone could get killed." Still grumbling to himself he wandered over to the first aid kit to tend to his grazes. Tin-tin had just arrived for her session on the rock wall.  
  
"Alan you're hurt!" she exclaimed, gazing at the blood running down his arm. She reached for the first aid kit and pulled out some cotton wool and saline solution.  
  
Somewhat mollified that someone had shown some concern, Alan put a brave face on it. "Neil was trying to be clever and he let go of the safety rope," he complained. "I'm not badly hurt, it's just a graze."  
  
Tin-tin stopped dabbing at the wound and scowled at Neil who was abseiling down the rock face. Fortunately he didn't see her expression. "What a foolish thing to do." She resumed making a fuss over Alan.  
  
Neil reached the bottom of the cliff, unhooked his harness and wandered over to the first aid area. "No hard feeling's I hope mate," he said, slapping Alan cheerfully on the back. "After all, we all make mistakes." He checked Alan's arm just before Tin-Tin applied a sticking plaster. "Just a scratch, small price to pay for a safety tip." He gave another grin and wandered back over to the base of the cliff to secure the base of the safety line ready for Scott's assent.  
  
Tin-Tin sensing that she had not been told the full story, carefully placed the sticking plaster in position and decided against commenting on the incident.  
  
*****  
  
  
  
The still day held a hint of menace as dark clouds gathered on the horizon. The city of Korekeihea looked to the heavens and consulted the weather forecast on their radio stations. "Storm warnings are in force and the 'Met Office' is predicting 100 to 150 mm of rain over the next 24 hours. Winds up to 100 km/hr are also predicted.  
  
The first heavy drops of water splashed down. People leaving home grabbed their raincoats and umbrellas and those returning home hastened their journey's to beat the deluge. Some who had not adjusted their speed for the conditions found themselves skidding out of control as the water, oil and rubber residue mixed together. The resulting slicks becoming a dangerous trap for the unwary. Emergency services braced themselves for an increase in call outs.  
  
Different organisations prepared for the deluge in different ways. Electricity workers were recalled to base. The coast guard was put on alert. Airlines prepared contingency plans and fire brigades checked their supplies of tarpaulins and ropes. Zoo-keepers did the rounds and ensured that their charges were safely under cover and that anything that could blow away was safely tied down.  
  
The Korekeihea Zoological Gardens were situated on an island created by a loop in the Korekeihea River. Over the centuries the river had gouged out a deep channel for itself, and the island stood high above the water. Native trees clung tenuously to the cliff face and native ducks swam at its base.   
  
Modern man had seen the advantage of the island both for animal control and because the high cliffs reduced the likelihood of flooding. The islands sole land access was a bridge, a two-lane structure that supported Waikato Street. Every animal and human that entered the zoo from the outside world had to cross this bridge.  
  
Korekeihea Zoo had once been regarded as a model of its kind. It had been built, after the turn of the century, using the latest technology and every safety concern had been addressed. The animals had been housed in enclosures that catered to their needs. The zoo had been praised for it's ability to keep the animals healthy and happy and over the years had created a successful breeding regime that had, in no small way, helped avert the extinction of many species.  
  
Sadly over the intervening 60 odd years the zoo had been unable to keep up with technology. Like many others of its ilk around the world it found itself to be under funded and understaffed. The staff that were employed were devoted to the animals and were frequently found to be acting above and beyond the call of duty. Keepers would work overtime without pay, pay for minor repairs out of their own pockets, act as first aiders, teachers and tourist guides to the public who only saw part of what their work entailed. Many a relationship had failed because "You think more of those animals than you do me." If the staff experienced any disquiet it was largely kept to themselves. They all knew what the zoo was capable of with adequate funding. They also knew, that without a change of heart by the zoo's owners, the Korekeihea City Council, they would be stuck with the status quo. Still they soldiered on, stretching the budget so that the animals were cared for, even if it meant other aspects of the zoo were ignored.  
  
Despite the lack of money, the animals thrived. The breeding programme was still a success, which was a double-edged sword. The fact that the animals were breeding meant that the keepers were excelling in their jobs and that each animal felt safe and secure. It also meant that there were more mouths to feed, and less money to go around.  
  
The zoo's General Manager, Tane Meadows, double-checked his figures again, ignoring the rain that was beating against the roof. The cheetah, Roy and Marla, had just given birth to two cubs, the orang-utan also had a new baby in their midst. He smiled at the memory of the tiny red face peeking out at him from under Daphne's, its' mothers, arm. It looked like a little old man, all wrinkled and bald. Daphne had looked younger than him!  
  
The Indian elephant was pregnant, the little brown kiwi had just hatched an egg. The chick had hatched fully feathered. At least it would survive for a short time on the yolk that it retained inside its belly. But soon they would have to supply extra food for the father, who undertook the care of the chick.  
  
There were dozens of other examples. All animals that were a joy to behold and were a further insurance against the extinction of their species. But all further depleted the budget. With a sigh he crossed the cladding of the kiwi house off the maintenance budget and added the same amount to the food budget.  
  
The public had been complaining about the exterior of the kiwi house, AND the state of the canteen, AND the safety of the bridge leading over the fishpond. Throughout the zoo there were structures that were, quite frankly eyesores, "But," he reminded himself, "the animals must come first." As long as the animals were happy and healthy, in his opinion, the zoo was doing its job.  
  
*****  
  
Tracy Island was experiencing the fringes of the same weather pattern that was beginning to make itself felt at Korekeihea. The palm trees were swaying with a bit more vigor than usual. A mini tornado of sand leaped from the beach and onto the runway, where it raced along the tarmac for twenty feet and then died out as quickly as it had formed.  
  
Jeff and Brains were eyeing the weather forecast uncertainly. "What do you think Brains. Will it amount to anything?"  
  
"It's hard to s-say M-Mr Tracy. This type of weather pattern is quite volatile, and even modern weather forecasting methods are not 100% reliable, although great p-progress has been made in the last 100 y-years or so. We can expect anything from a c-cyclone to a mild z-zephyr."  
  
"Well Brains, using an educated guess, what do you think we can expect?"  
  
"At an ed-ducated guess, a-and it is only a g-guess, I-I would think that we can expect high w-winds and rain, b-but the area around New Z-Zealand will be h-hit much h-harder with gale force winds and a possible cyclone. Currently the front is moving eastwards, n-not north."  
  
"So our assistance may be needed in New Zealand and the surrounding islands?"  
  
"I-it is possible, Mr Tracy, it's p-possible."  
  
The Tracy boys and Neil had completed their rock climbing practice and were outside flying kites. It wasn't only for pure enjoyment, although they were having a lot of fun. They were testing the aerial characteristics of a variety of different forms of craft. By working together they were able to combine their ideas and critique each other's handiwork. Sometimes one of them would get a bit sensitive about what they saw as an unfair criticism of his handiwork, but generally they worked well together and accepted each other's suggestions.  
  
Scott was hanging onto the end of a length of cord attached to a lightweight craft. For one moment it threatened to slip through his fingers, then as the breeze eased off, the tiny craft banked and did a spectacular nose-dive into the ground. Slightly dejected the men started to pick up the scattered fragments. Neil was the first to speak.  
  
"Well I think the basic premise is good! It just needs bigger wings for bigger uplift."  
  
Virgil was being practical. "If we use bigger wings, it will never fit into the pod of Thunderbird Two, unless we reduce the size of the body."  
  
Gordon was thinking laterally, "The wings could fold back on themselves. They are folded up for transportation, we get to the scene of a rescue, unfold the wings and we're away!"  
  
Alan took a similar tack, "How about wings the retract, like Thunderbird One's?"  
  
Scott decided that the idea had promise, "We would need a longer body to the craft, but that would give us more room to work with."  
  
Gordon acted as devils advocate. "If the craft is longer, we may be restricting what other machinery we can fit into the pod..."  
  
"Unless we suspend it from the roof of the pod," Virgil was getting excited about the idea. "Then we could lower it till it was clear of the top of the access way..."  
  
"...And send it off like a rocket! Va-voom!" Neil leapt into the air in a decent imitation of how he expected the launch sequence to look like.  
  
"Well maybe not quite like a rocket," Scott tried to tone down Neil's enthusiasm. "The G-forces would be too great for the pilot and we might find ourselves ploughing into some cliff face. But once the craft is clear of Thunderbird Two we should be able to get this craft up to some decent speeds."  
  
Neil had been momentarily downcast. He had hoped that this new craft might just be his Thunderbird, and he was hoping that it would be as speedy and glamorous as the rest. Still he cheered up quickly at the thought that, whatever the craft, whatever the tools were used, he would still be helping the mighty International Rescue help those in need. When would he get the opportunity to use his hard won skills?  
  
*****  
  
The weather was getting worse. A particularly loud clap of thunder sent the animals screeching and visitors heading for their vehicles. None of them particularly wanted to get soaking wet wandering around looking at a dreary zoo, with its structures faded and crumbling.  
  
The keepers took another walk around the zoo and double-checked that everything was secure. Ben Karaka poked at the cladding of the kiwi house and a lump of plaster flaked away. 'One decent gust of wind and we could lose much of this' he thought.  
  
He went inside to check on the building's occupants. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light and then began to peer through the glass of the enclosure. An owl flew past and landed beside its mate. So the Morepork were okay. He turned his attention to the ground cover. A large spotted kiwi wandered into view and disappeared behind a fern, another searched for worms along the front of the display. At the back of the display Ben could make out the shape of another kiwi. That was three of them. Where was the fourth?   
  
"Where are you hiding, Hemi?" As if on cue Hemi appeared from behind a patch of fern, paraded along the full length of the glass frontage and disappeared back into the gloom. Satisfied Ben continued on into the nursery room to check on the little brown kiwi and their offspring.  
  
In the tiger enclosure 'Khan' paced back and forth, growling quietly to himself. Shannon Brown operated the lever that opened the door to his holding pen and he leapt inside. The door behind him closed with a bang and he turned and snarled at it. Shannon looked through the bars that held him captive. "What's the matter boy? Is the thunder upsetting you? Why don't you curl up and have a snooze?" But Khan continued to pace up and down.  
  
All around the zoo, the keepers ensured that their charges were safely bedded down. The giraffe's ambled into their 'house', ducking their long necks as they walked through the door. The monkeys swung into their respective cages. The two elephants made their ponderous way into their pen, taking their time, enjoying the feeling of the water hitting their thick hides.  
  
The clouds darkened and raced across the sky. A thunderclap roared at the same time as a flash of lightning streaked across the sky. The rain pelted down and quickly flooded drains and ditches. The shear force of the downpour stung those that were caught outside.  
  
In the heavens the clouds met and divided, spinning round in an ever-tightening whirlpool. Reaching out towards the ground and then pulling back, reaching lower and lower on each successive stretch. As the winds and clouds got closer to the ground, more and more debris was lifted up into the air and sent soaring far from it's place of origin.  
  
Trees hundreds of years old were lashed from side to side as if they were mere saplings. Fences were felled and gardens were flattened. Rooves were lifted and flung to the ground.  
  
Ben was looking out from his workroom in the kiwi house. His jaw sagged as he saw the scene outside. He reached for the telephone and punched a call through to the head office. "We've got a tornado on the way!!"  
  
"A WHAT?"  
  
"Tornado. Hit the alarms or something. Use the tannoy. Tell everyone to take cover!"  
  
Even as he finished speaking the sounds of the zoo alarm system could be faintly heard above the roar of the wind and rain. He dove into a back room away from the window just as the tornado struck! 


	16. Devastation 1

Devastation 1  
  
The tornado departed as quickly as it had arrived, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Bridges were ripped in two, buildings flattened like a deck of cards, and trees had been flung hither and yon. Shortly after the tornadoes departure the storm abated. The rescue services swung into action.  
  
Up in Thunderbird Five John Tracy listened attentively to the messages that flowed from his radio. The Korekeihea Fire brigade had dispatched its entire staff to secure buildings and assist those who were trapped. The ambulance services were being dispatched in all directions to help those who needed it. Volunteer groups like Civil Defence and Search and Rescue swung into action. So far no one had seen the need to call in International Rescues help.   
  
John listened and waited.  
  
*****  
  
In the zoo the keepers were once again checking the enclosures, ensuring that the animals had survived the tornado. Radio messages were flying thick and fast back to the office.  
  
"Lion enclosure secure. Lions are okay"  
  
"Chimps enclosure - scaffolding down, major damage to north facing wall, some damage to holding pen. I can't get near the chimps to see how they are, they're having a fit!"  
  
"Tiger enclosure - damage to boundary fence."  
  
"Orang-utan enclosure - West wall missing and I can't find Daphne and her little one!"  
  
Tane swore under his breath. The baby orang-utan was still dependent on it's mother. If anything had happened to her and they couldn't find the baby in time...   
  
Reports kept on flowing in. The elephant enclosure had been wrecked, the pregnant Indian elephant had been injured by a bit of flying debris and she'd fled to the least accessible part of the zoo. The spider monkeys had climbed across the debris that had fallen across the moat that had surrounded their island and were exploring the zoo. People and animals had been injured. Structures were damaged, some beyond repair. Animals had escaped.   
  
Tane tried to keep abreast of all that was happening. None of the human injuries were life threatening but some of the animals had not fared so well. Each keeper had his or her own emergency checklist but he knew that he had to co-ordinate the rescue and clean up. Where to start? It was obvious that the first step was ensure that all animals and staff on site were safe. He checked the escaped animal list.  
  
Spider monkeys...  
  
Two kangaroos...  
  
Daphne the orang-utan and her baby...  
  
The Indian elephant...  
  
A Galapagos Tortoise...  
  
Three kea...  
  
The tiger...  
  
Tane sucked in his breath. Kahn on the loose! Tane reached for the feeding roster. As he'd feared Kahn was due to be fed later this afternoon. He would be hungry and wandering the zoo looking for easy pickings. He probably wouldn't attack anyone, but if he'd been hurt...  
  
Tane quashed the mental image and grabbed the telephone. The receiver was dead in his hands. Clearly the tornado had knocked out the phone system. He hurried into the neighbouring office.  
  
Like most of the office block, his secretary's office had sustained some damage. The electricity wasn't working and Jan Powell was standing at the window reading the emergency procedure sheet, the radio on her desk was broadcasting up-to-date news flashes on the state of the city. Tane was just in time to hear a broadcast.  
  
"The Police state that Queen Street between Grey and Kirk streets is impassable. The following roads are also unable to be used. Marsden Street, Kauri Avenue, Rangitoto Circle, Shepherd Road, Ahorcee Road, and Kore Way. The length of Waikato Street and the bridge to the Korekeihea Zoo are impassable to vehicular and foot traffic.  
  
"Impassable! We've got people to evacuate and animals that have got to be rehoused. How are we going to achieve that when we can't use the road?"  
  
"Helicopter?" Jan offered helpfully.  
  
"A possibility." Tane was studying a map of the zoo. On the map Jan had highlighted where any damage was situated. The car park area had been used for a helicopter-landing pad before. "If only the telephones were working, we could arrange for some assistance."  
  
"But the 'phones are working." Jan told him. "Don't ask me how. The electricity loss has meant that the central 'phone PABX is unusable, but this phone, with its direct link to the outside network is still okay. You just can't make any internal calls or ring an outside line from any other 'phone. The video display is out of action too."  
  
Tane grabbed the 'phone and started dialling the police. "Hello, this is Tane Meadows, General Manager of the Korekeihea Zoo. Look we've got problems here, escaped animals and..." He waited while the voice on the other end of the phone said something. "No, a few minor injuries, nothing serious.... I'm pretty sure that none of the animals can escape the zoo grounds... Is there any chance of getting helicopters to assist with the animal evacuation?... Yes, yes I understand. Thanks for your help. Goodbye."  
  
Jan looked at him expectantly.  
  
"No go I'm afraid. All air transport have been grounded due to fears about the weather, they also doubted that a helicopter would be the best way of evacuating large numbers of animals. All the other rescue services are tied up elsewhere."  
  
Jan raised her hands helplessly. "Well now what do we do?"  
  
At that moment a keeper opened the door and stepped into the office. "Sorry Jan, we've just captured this little fellow and there's nowhere else to keep him at the moment. Can we leave him in your office." From within a wire cage a spider monkey looked forlornly out, evidently saddened that his brief spell of freedom had been short lived.  
  
"Sure thing Roger. Just put him in the corner. I'll try and create some more room for any other lost souls that need housing."  
  
As Roger walked past Tane the General Manager glanced into the cage. The base had been lined with an old edition of the Korekeihea Gazette and the monkey was sitting on the headline. His prehensile tail was circling two words, 'International Rescue.'   
  
Tane smiled. It was a long shot, but worth a try. 


	17. Devastation 2

Devastation 2  
  
"NO!" Jeff Tracy was emphatic. "International Rescue is NOT an animal welfare group. We CAN'T spend our resources on animal rescue." He accompanied each negative with a thump on his desk.  
  
"But Dad..." Scott started to say.  
  
"No buts. What if a real emergency happens and we're all tied up with this job. Someone could lose their life!"  
  
"There are some dangerous animals wondering around there at the moment, Dad." John spoke down from his portrait on the wall. "We could save a life if we did help out."  
  
"Yeah, come on Dad." Scott managed to put across his point of view. "We haven't had a rescue for months. It would be a good opportunity for Neil to get some experience, without a lot of the pressure that we have to contend with on a normal rescue."  
  
Neil could see the opportunity that he'd been waiting for and he wasn't about to let it pass him by. "That's right, Mr Tracy. And what's so wrong with helping a lot of animals. Korekeihea has helped preserve a lot of species over the years and mankind would be a lot poorer if these species hadn't been saved."  
  
"Neil's right, Father." Virgil delivered the final blow. "Remember all the times that you took us to the zoo as kids. You were forever telling us what a valuable job zoos did and how they were instrumental in saving a lot of species that you took for granted when you were a boy."  
  
Jeff was silent. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to win this argument and he could concede that the experience could be valuable. "All right." He said grudgingly. "John, put me through to the zoo and I'll see what we can do."  
  
*****  
  
"They're coming." Tane lowered the radio he'd been speaking into in amazement. He turned to Jan "International Rescue are coming to help us."  
  
"International Resc... Wow!" Jan was lost for words.  
  
"Start ringing other zoos and animal parks in the country. See if they have any room to board some of our charges for a few weeks. See what hospital facilities they have available. International Rescue said they can transport animals around the country. They'll also help us shore up those buildings that are still useable so we can house whatever's left of the collection."  
  
"Fantastic!" Jan reached for the sole useable phone.  
  
Tane switched on the radio so that all the keepers were able to listen in at once. "Attention everyone. I want lists of which animals need urgent care and which need emergency housing, A.S.A.P. International Rescue are going to help airlift them out." He grinned as he imagined his staff's reactions to THAT bit of news.  
  
'Tarzan' Miller of the ape section was first to hand in his list. "You were kidding weren't you? International Rescue?"  
  
Tane tried to keep a straight face. "No 'Tarzan' I wasn't, they should be here in about ten minutes."  
  
'Tarzan' turned to leave. "He wasn't kidding," he told Shannon Brown as she entered the room with her list, "International Rescue are coming."  
  
"Wow." Shannon was stunned.  
  
*****  
  
Scott hovered above the zoo. From the air he was getting a clear picture of the devastation that the tornado had brought. It had been a small tornado, only a few meters wide, but it had been destructive. It had hopped across the city, motored the length of Waikato Street, collapsed the bridge leading to the zoo, admitted itself through the ticket entrance, taking some souvenirs and food with it and then proceeded to cut through the centre of the property.  
  
"I've arrived at the scene." Scott informed John up in Thunderbird Five. "I'm just taking some aerial photographs for reference."  
  
"F.A.B." John acknowledged. "How does it look?"  
  
"Pretty bad, brother. From what I can make out it's cut right through the safari section of the zoo, and goodness knows what other buildings. I'm coming in to land now. I'll radio back when I have more news."  
  
"Thanks Scott."  
  
Scott's initial problem was finding somewhere to land. There was so much debris lying about the place, and he would need to leave enough room for the larger Thunderbird Two to land somewhere on site. He eventually decided that he could just squeeze into an area of relatively clear terrain in front of the Administration building. If he was careful.  
  
It took a great deal of skill but eventually Thunderbird One was safely on the ground. Scott allowed himself a moment of self-congratulation before he climbed out of his craft to get Tane who was waiting just inside the building.  
  
Tane was impressed. "That was some landing!"  
  
"Thanks" Scott shook the managers' hand, "I could have landed by the car park, but we'll need that space for Thunderbird Two." He surveyed the devastation. "Looks like you have a slight problem here."  
  
"That's an understatement. We have several animals who need urgent attention, and our hospital can't cope with all the cases." Tane's eyes fell on the gun that resided in the holster on Scott's uniform. "That thing isn't loaded is it? If possible I don't want any more animals hurt."  
  
With a reassuring chuckle Scott tapped the gun. Don't worry. We all have the green barrel attached to our guns. They only contain a knockout pellet. It's the red barrels that we use as a last resort. I understand that you do have some escaped animals on the premises."  
  
"Yes, most of them are harmless, although all animals will fight if they are hurt and frightened. I would say," Tane paused "that the only one that you have to be wary of is Kahn the tiger."  
  
"A tiger." Scott looked thoughtful. "We've never had to use these guns on anything heavier than a human. I suppose he's likely to be hungry."  
  
"His feeding time is due in an hour."  
  
"Oh well," Scott tried to appear unconcerned, "it keeps life interesting I guess." Together they set about installing Mobile Control inside Tane's office.  
  
A roar in the sky announced the arrival of Thunderbird Two. Scott's intercom crackled into life.  
  
"Thunderbird Two to Mobile Control."  
  
"Go ahead Virgil."  
  
"Where do you want us to land?"  
  
"There's only one area big enough to take you. You'll have to land on the car park and the park beside it. The fence is already down so you won't do much more damage."  
  
"Thanks Scott. I'll offload Neil, Gordon and Alan with 'The Domo' and the other apparatus and then we can start loading up the hold with any animals that need shifting. Do we know where we're taking them yet?"  
  
At that moment Jan walked in and handed Tane the list of zoo's that were able to assist. Tane nodded at Scott who turned back to the intercom. "Affirmative. I'll work out a flight plan and give it to you when you're ready to leave."  
  
"F.A.B."  
  
From what was left of his office window Tane was able to see the great green bulk of Thunderbird Two swing into view. It hovered over the car park and then gently sank to the ground. Once there the body of the craft rose up on its hydraulic legs and the door to the pod was lowered to the ground. A moment later there was a roar and a large machine negotiated it's way out of the pod and onto the grass in front.  
  
"Wow," Tane breathed "I wish I had my camera with me." A concerned look from Scott alerted him to what he'd said. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I know, no photographs. It's just... Wow" He turned back to the window without seeing Scott's smile of understanding.  
  
*****  
  
Neil was practically falling over himself in his eagerness to get started. Virgil grabbed him by the arm. "Calm down. It's going to be a long job and you'll have plenty of chances to get some action. By the end of this mission you'll probably be itching to get home."  
  
Neil gave Virgil a light punch on the arm. "You forget mate. I AM home."  
  
"That's a point" Virgil looked slightly concerned. "Any chance you'll meet anyone you know?"  
  
"I don't know anyone from this neck of the woods, but there's always that chance. Same as there's always a chance that you'll come across someone you know in the States."  
  
"It's a big country."  
  
"It's a small world."  
  
"True," Virgil conceded. "I don't know why I'm worrying. You never stay in the same spot long enough for anyone to get a good look at you anyway."  
  
Neil laughed and headed for the exit.  
  
Outside the others had removed most of the equipment that they had brought for their task. Scott came striding over, the plan of action in his hand.  
  
"Right Virgil, you and Gordon can take a few keepers and air-lift these animals," he handed Gordon a list, "to the zoo's marked alongside each animal." He handed Virgil the flight plan. "That's how you get there, and this," he acknowledged the secretary who was walking towards them, "is Jan. She'll liaise between you and the management of the other zoos."  
  
"Good." said Virgil.  
  
"Neil, Alan and I will see what we can do here. There's access ways to clear and the keepers would like our help in recapturing some of the animals.  
  
"Oh, by the way," he added casually as if it was an afterthought, "there's a tiger on the loose, so you might want to keep your eyes peeled."  
  
"A tiger!" Alan showed some concern.  
  
"Nothin' to worry about. Apparently he's called Kahn and he's just a great big pussycat. It's time for his dinner though."  
  
Neil eyed Scott uncertainly. "I'm not sure whether you're kidding us or trying to keep us calm."  
  
Shannon Brown was standing nearby. "Kahn is loose and he will be hungry. If you do come across him don't make any sudden moves, or you'll frighten him."  
  
"Lady, I would lay even money that we'll be the ones who will get the bigger fright." Gordon stated.  
  
"If you do see him," Shannon continued with a smile, "please tell a keeper immediately." A beeper on her slacks sounded; "Look I've got to go. Please don't let it worry you too much, he's probably hiding somewhere out of harms way." She hurried off.  
  
"Don't worry she says," a frown creased Alan's handsome face, "There's a hungry man-eater out their and she says don't worry!"  
  
"She's right." Jan told him. "Tigers don't usually attack people, only if they feel cornered or hurt."  
  
The first wave of casualties were waiting to be loaded into Thunderbird Two's hull. "Virgil and I had better get moving," Gordon said. He scrunched up his face and curled his hands into claws. "We'll leave you to your friend." he said and took a mock swipe at Alan.  
  
"Gerroff." Alan was not amused.  
  
***** 


	18. Devastation 3

Devastation 3  
  
It was hot and dusty work. Neil and Scott's first task was to rescue 'Indirai', the pregnant elephant. Badly frightened by the noise of the winds and tearing wood and metal flying about her she'd panicked and run out onto a peninsula of land that jutted out into the river. As the storm had continued the land at the base of the peninsula had subsided leaving 'Indirai' trapped on an island.  
  
Before they could get near her the team had to clear the debris out of the way. International Rescues heavy machinery was able to help up to a point.  
  
Scott stopped the machine on a keeper's signal and climbed out of the cab. He jumped onto the ground and sank up to his ankles in thick mud, the result of the earlier downpour. "What's up?"  
  
The keeper, Rangi, came over to him. "The sound of your machine is distressing her. She has a bad gash on her side and she's in calf. I don't want her upset anymore than we can help. Also every time she moves a bit more soil falls into the river, I think there's a chance that she could follow it."  
  
"I understand." Scott acknowledged the problem. "But we're going to have to find another way of getting her out of there."  
  
The sound of Thunderbird Two taking off for another emergency delivery was heard in the distance.  
  
"Could she be airlifted out?" Neil was standing at Scott's shoulder.  
  
"If she's stressed by this beast," Scott tapped the machine he was standing beside, "how will she react to being lifted by a Thunderbird?"  
  
"It would be quicker and easier though, wouldn't it?" Rangi was hopeful.  
  
"Well yes, we could do it in a fraction of the time," Scott confirmed "and we're still trying to work out how to get her over that gap."   
  
"Look, can you help me get to her now. I'll try to calm her down and do what I can to patch her up, then would it be possible to lift her out?"  
  
"Sure," Scott considered the logistics, "We'll use Thunderbird One. She's smaller and marginally quieter. But don't you think it could harm the calf?"  
  
"I'll have to check with the vet. of course, but I just want to get her somewhere safe as soon as possible."  
  
Scott turned to Neil. "I'll head back to Thunderbird One and start making the arrangements. You can help Rangi get over to the elephant. I'll give you a call when I need your help."  
  
Neil grinned. "F.A.B."  
  
Scott climbed back into the International Rescue machine and started heading back up the hill. His first plan of action was to clear a space big enough for Thunderbird One to touch down after airlifting Indirai. That job finished he set about rigging up the cables and harnesses that would transport the elephant to safety.  
  
Neil's task was slightly more difficult, but he relished the challenge. He would have to carry the gear that would help Rangi get to Indirai and he would have to carry it over the debris that they had been unable to clear. He would then have to somehow get a bridge out to the elephant, so that Rangi could go and calm her down.  
  
He left Rangi talking to Indirai across the chasm and headed up to the stockpile of equipment that International Rescue had left. He had chosen what he would need and was debating how to transport it all down to where it was required. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a blue figure.   
  
"Alan can you give me a hand."  
  
Alan wondered over. "Sure, what's up?"  
  
"I need help to carry this lot down to the river."  
  
Alan eyed they pile of equipment that Neil had assembled. "You don't need help, you need a pack horse," he said as he gathered up an armload of gear.  
  
Between them they were able to transport the equipment back to the rescue site.  
  
"How's she going?" Neil asked Rangi.  
  
"She's calmer, but I'm still worried about her."  
  
"Okay, do you want to go and get what medical supplies you think you'll need, and we'll continue working out how to get you over there." Neil was already unpacking the equipment.  
  
Rangi hesitated, unwilling to leave. With a reassuring "I'll back girl," to Indirai he started up to the animal hospital.  
  
*****  
  
Scott was working on Thunderbird One, ensuring that the cable that would connect Indirai to the plane was securely attached. He gave a big tug to it and was surprised when the straps of the harness, which had become entwined around his leg, tugged back. Looking down he found a large dark green parrot playing with the catch. The bird was evidently captivated by the shiny metal and would pick it up in its beak, pass it to its foot, mouth it and drop it again.  
  
Moving very slowing Scott activated his radio. "Scott to Tane. I think I've found one of your escapees."  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"Underneath Thunderbird One."  
  
The parrot stopped what it was doing and regarded Scott with an intelligent eye. It clearly decided that the intercom, which he held in his hand, was more interesting and with a flap of its wings revealing it's scarlet under-feathers it flew onto his shoulder.  
  
Scott winced as the parrot's claws dug in through the material. He tried not to make a move that would frighten the bird away.  
  
Tane appeared at the door to the Administration block carrying a net. "You've found one of our Kea."  
  
"Not really, it found me." The Kea saw Tane, flew to the ground and started to walk away in its peculiar cross-legged gait.  
  
With one fluid motion Tane threw the net onto the parrot. It let out a loud squawk and started jumping around indignantly. Tane radioed for the keeper in charge of the avian section to come and collect it. He then turned to Scott. "You'd better recheck your equipment. Kea are very inquisitive and are well known for stripping the fittings of cars. I would hate for anything to fall off this plane of yours."  
  
As Scott re-checked anything that the Kea could have got its beak on he found out more about the Kea's history. A native of New Zealand and the world's only mountain parrot, it was thought to be highly intelligent and also a bit of a clown. As Tane concluded "It probably thought it could fly your Thunderbird better than you can."  
  
*****  
  
Neil and Alan were working together. They unwrapped one package revealing a coiled length of strong webbing. Alan securely anchored one end of the webbing into the ground while Neil prepared the other end. When Alan was sure that his end would hold firm he gave the signal to Neil who launched a rocket. It's tiny but powerful motor buzzing like an angry bee the rocket shot out and circled the island twice, it then returned to where it started, guided by the remote control that Neil operated. Alan secured this end into the ground. The island was now embraced by the webbing, which they hoped would help hold it secure.  
  
The next stage was to create a bridge across to the island. Another package was opened and another coil of webbing was produced. Once again Alan secured an end into the ground.   
  
"Ready" he told Neil.  
  
"Okay." This time four rockets were sent out. They headed unerringly to the island and ploughed into the earth, a second explosion announced that four pegs had been driven into the ground at an angle that would hold the webbing secure. A bridge about 600 mm wide now stretched between the island and the mainland.  
  
Indirai upset by the sounds about her gave a quite trumpet and moved uneasily.  
  
"Easy girl," Neil called to her. "It won't be long now."  
  
Rangi had arrived back. He looked askance at the 'bridge'. "Is it safe?"  
  
"Should be," Alan told him, "but just to make sure we'll attach this safety line to you. Rangi found himself being harnessed up.  
  
Wearing a pack containing the necessary medical equipment, Rangi took his first tentative steps onto the 'bridge.' He found it surprisingly firm. In no time he was across to Indirai's side, talking into her ear, scratching her side. He slowly worked his way down to the wound, and began to apply first aid.  
  
It was at this time that Neil and Alan received confirmation that Scott was ready. They both headed over to Thunderbird One to finalise details.  
  
It was decided that Neil would stay on the ground and help guide the swinging elephant, Alan and (if he was agreeable) Rangi, would "go along for the ride". Scott, naturally, would pilot Thunderbird One.  
  
Neil and Alan took the harness and walked briskly back to the island. Rangi had finished patching up Indirai and was telling her that everything was going to be all right. His face paled when they told him what they had planned.  
  
"Do I have to?"  
  
"No, but I'm sure Indirai would be happier if you were there." Alan tried to be reassuring. "To tell the truth, I wouldn't mind it either, just in case she panics."  
  
"Okay, I'll give it a go."  
  
Indirai was the first to be harnessed. The straps under her bulging belly were spread out so that the weight wouldn't be taken in only one place. Alan was pleasantly surprised by the amount of control that Rangi was able to exert on her, just by his commands and the tone of his voice.  
  
They radioed through to Scott when everything was ready  
  
"F.A.B. I'm on my way."  
  
There was a roar of an aircraft motor, but it was Thunderbird Two returning from it's final mercy dash.  
  
Scott was clearly briefing Virgil and Gordon about their plans, because there was a lull before Thunderbird One's motor was heard.  
  
The silver rocket rose up from behind the administration block and turned towards them.   
  
Scott made sure that he attained plenty of height before he flew towards the harnessed trio. Slowly he lowered the craft until the end of the cable was within reach.  
  
Indirai was becoming fidgety. She swung round and banged into Alan. Only the harness that connected him to the elephant stopped him from slipping over the edge. He looked into her docile brown eyes and at once his heart went out to the frightened animal. "It's all right girl. It won't be long now."  
  
Neil was radioing Scott instructions. "Right, right. Down a bit, bit more. Stop. Okay now to your left. Stop!" He connected the cable to the harness. "Away you go!"  
  
Scott's eyes darted over his instrument panel and his hands expertly manoeuvred the plane. He slowly increased his height and his cargo lifted of the ground. He could hear Neil's voice, "You're clear of the island Scott, transferring control over to Alan."  
  
Alan's voice came through the intercom. "We need a bit more height Scott. Okay that should be fine."  
  
"How's she taking it?"  
  
"Seems okay. Rangi's talking to her and that seems to keep her calm. We need to be raised up about 10 metres more."  
  
Scott made the adjustment.  
  
Neil ran up to where the team would be touching down, outside the animal hospital. Thunderbird One slowly slipped into position overhead, it's three passengers dangling below like a spent yoyo. He raised the intercom to his lips. "Okay Scott, you're in position. Lower away."  
  
Once again Scott ran a practised eye over his instruments and moved the lever that started the planes downward decent. Neil's voice filled the cabin.  
  
"10 metres above ground. Seven, five, careful, three, two metres, one. Touchdown!"  
  
Scott allowed the plane to sink another metre to let out some slack. As soon as the harnesses were disconnected he rose back up into the air, retracting the cable as he did so. He then made his way to the area he'd cleared earlier. This time his landing was a lot less tricky.  
  
***** 


	19. Devastation 4

Well I am now free to disclose who died...  
  
It was my computer, but after a double HD transplant everything seems to be progressing smoothly (fingers crossed)  
  
On with the story...  
Devastation 4  
  
Virgil and Gordon had successfully transported all the animals that needed immediate help. They consulted Tane as to where their services were required next. He directed them to the bear enclosure. "We've had a sighting of Kahn too." He said. "He was last seen in the region of the swamp lands, so he's nowhere near where you'll be."  
  
Virgil was studying a map. "So he hasn't been captured yet?" he asked looking up.  
  
"No, the keeper who saw him just had time to radio in and he'd disappeared again."  
  
Virgil and Gordon headed outside passing the rest of the team, who were on their way in to find out what to do next.  
  
"How's the elephant?" Virgil asked.  
  
"There're checking her out now, Scott replied. "They think she's going to be okay."  
  
"Flying elephants," Gordon said with a grin, "now I've seen everything."  
  
"I'm going to radio base," Scott informed them, "want me to pass on any messages."  
  
"You can tell them that the 'pussycat' was last seen prowling the swamps, and that Virgil and I won't be anywhere near it." Gordon told him. "I believe it was stalking a keeper until he gave it the slip."  
  
Virgil nudged him. "Stop exaggerating." He turned back to the others. "It has been seen in the swamp lands enclosure, but there's no reports of it hunting anyone." He turned to leave. "C'mon Gordo', we've got work to do."  
  
Outside the sun streamed down. It had turned into a hot, New Zealand, mid-summers day and apart from the ruins that lay around them, there was no hint of the storm that had passed barely half a day earlier.  
  
Gordon shielded his eyes from the sun. "Which way do we go?"  
  
Virgil pointed down a slope that lead away from the administration block. "That's the road to the bear pit. I'll go get 'The Domo' and you can start clearing a path."  
  
"Okay." Gordon started down the path that led to where Scott had left the clearing machine. He'd barely gone 50 metres when a snarl brought him up short. Was it imagination or had he heard something. The lion safari enclosure was off to his right, this sound had come from his left. His hand went slowly to the gun in its holster but he did not draw it out.  
  
He stood still for 2 minutes. No more sounds. No movement.  
  
"Gordon, hurry up." Virgil was yelling at him from where 'The Domo' was parked.  
  
Gordon hesitated and then decided that he was hearing things. Seemed that the only person that he'd managed to frighten was himself. He hurried on and climbed into the machine. As he shut the door behind him he was aware of a sense of relief. He started the motor and began to clear a path for 'The Domo' to follow.  
  
The bear pit had sustained a lot of superficial damage. The main problem was a slab of concrete that had slipped in front of the door that led from the outside enclosure, to the Brown Bears holding pen. Two Brown Bears were trapped inside and one appeared to have a superficial wound to its shoulder. The zoo staff could get into the pen, but they didn't want to risk it until the healthy bear was outside.  
  
When he arrived at the scene Virgil climbed onto the roof of 'The Domo' to survey his task. The hunk of concrete weighed about two tonnes in his estimation. It would be a piece of cake to a machine like 'The Domo'.  
  
He climbed back inside and manoeuvred the machine to the best location, he then lined up one of the cannons that was mounted on top of the machine. After double checking his calculations he pushed a button.  
  
The missile came snaking out of the cannon and a giant suction cup affixed itself to the concrete slab. Virgil pulled back on a lever and the slab started to shake. A bit more pressure and the slab fell away from the door. He continued to reel in the concrete until it was hanging from the end of the cannon.  
  
He reached for the intercom. "International Rescue to bear enclosure. You're free to enter."  
  
"Roger, thanks." A side door to the pit opened and two keepers armed with brooms and rubbish bags rushed in to clear the floor.  
  
Still in 'The Domo' Virgil carried the concrete slab to the 'rubbish tip' to deposit it on the pile. As he drove away he took another look at the bear enclosure. It was in a sorry state.  
  
*****  
  
The Kiwi house was in an even worse state of repair. The door hung crazily off its hinges, the wall was standing at about 45 degrees off true. A panel lay jammed between the two walls that ran at right angles to the entranceway. Alan gingerly climbed under the panel and then made a left hand turn, down another short access way that opened into the kiwi room. He reached the door of the room and surveyed the scene.  
  
Sitting on the floor in front of the large glass fronted display case was Neil. His left hand clasped an enormous pair of scaly feet, topped with what looked like a lethal set of claws. His right hand held a bundle of fluff, slightly smaller than a chicken. As Alan moved closer he could see that a strong pair of legs connected the feet to the fluff. Attached to the other end of the fluff was what appeared to be a long straw. The straw split in two and clacked at the new threat.  
  
"What on earth is that?" Alan demanded.  
  
"This," Neil said, with a trace of pride in his voice, "is Manu, she's a Kiwi. The National bird of my country. New Zealanders are also known as Kiwi's." He looked down at the bird in his arms. "I've always wanted to hold one," he added almost reverently.  
  
"That's a bird?"  
  
"Yep. Millions of years ago New Zealand split off from the super continent, Gondwanaland, before mammals had a chance to become established. This country only has two native land mammals, and they are both species of bats. The result was that many birds took on the characteristics of mammals since they didn't have the competition. So the Kiwi doesn't fly, hence it's large, powerful legs" His fingers gingerly lifted a tiny flap of feathers on the birds side. "See it's wings are practically useless. And look at it's feathers!" He separated a feather delicately, "It's practically hair, like a mammals."  
  
Alan touched the feathers carefully, marvelling at how much the coat did look like hair. The kiwi rapped him on the hand with its long bill. It was softer than he had expected. "So what's with this long beak?"  
  
"It feeds on worms and grubs that live under the ground. See how its nostrils are at the tip of the beak, all other birds have their nostrils at the base of the beak. It enables the kiwi to smell its food in the soil. It's nocturnal and doesn't have fantastic sight, hence the sensitive beak, whiskers like a cats and large ears." Obligingly the kiwi turned its head and Alan was able to see the birds large ear holes behind the small eyes.  
  
Neil nodded at what looked like a large, white, elliptical stone that lay beside him. "See that egg? Manu laid that, but unfortunately it was infertile."  
  
Alan gasped audibly. "That's her egg? But it must be at least half her size.  
  
"Two thirds actually. The kiwi has one of the biggest eggs to the size of the mother in the bird kingdom."  
  
"So why would a national want to be called the same thing as a strange bird, that only comes out at night and looks for its food with its nose, in the dirt?" Alan wanted to know.  
  
Neil looked indignant. "Well you've got to admit that it is a unique character. I'll bet you've never seen anything like this before..."  
  
"That's true."  
  
"And besides," Neil looked thoughtful, "our national game is rugby, and you do tend to get your nose stuck in the mud when you are at the bottom of the ruck. And," he added brightly, "we are getting the taste for the night life."   
  
He looked at the bird tucked into his arms. "We haven't been too good to your relations, have we love?" He said softly. He looked back up at Alan, his face suddenly serious. "Like I said, New Zealand had no mammals, so this little ladies ancestors had few predators to worry about. Until man came on the scene. We brought rats and dogs, and later mustelids like weasels and stoats. Even the cat predates on kiwi chicks.   
  
"Man's removed much of the bush that covered New Zealand reducing the size of their habitat and species like goats, deer and possums have denuded much of what is left. A flightless bird, unused to predators, with nowhere to run to, hasn't had much of a chance.   
  
"It's not only kiwi that have suffered either. Many of New Zealand's indigenous, unique species have been killed off or at least been brought to the brink of extinction. Even the larger ones. See that case behind you..." Alan turned and found his eyes in line with the base of the neck of a large solid bird, similar in shape to an ostrich, but more heavily feathered. "That's a Moa. It's the kiwi's closest relative. It was the worlds largest bird, but it was wiped out during the time of the Maori, although there have been unconfirmed sightings during early European times."  
  
"Wow," was Alan's comment. "Look at the drumsticks on that!"  
  
"That's the reason why scientists believe that it became extinct. It was an easy meal to catch, and it was also unable to escape the fires when bush was cleared. Believe it or not, before man arrived, it had a natural predator."  
  
"There was something brave enough to attack that?"  
  
Neil nodded. "The worlds largest eagle. They've died out too."  
  
"No wonder, if they were big enough to take that on. Once Moa had gone I would guess that anything else wouldn't have been big enough to fill a hole in a tooth. If birds had teeth." Alan added as an afterthought.  
  
"I'm not a hundred percent sure why they died out." Neil started saying, "But that could be an explan......."  
  
Both men had been talking in an almost reverential hush when suddenly the intercom in Alan's hand burst rudely into life.  
  
"Mobile Control to Alan, where are you?"   
  
Manu startled by the sudden unexpected sound let out a screech and struggled to break free from Neil's grip. Neil tightened his hold on the struggling bird and grinned. "Big Brother is watching you."  
  
"I'm in the kiwi house Scott." Alan reduced the volume on the intercom. "You want to take a look at this bird..."  
  
"In case you hadn't noticed," Scott was sounding a trifle tetchy. It had been a long day. "We are in the middle of a mission. We haven't time to go sight seeing. Are you still needed there?"  
  
"Negative Scott" Alan replied a trifle guiltily.  
  
"Then head over to the giraffe enclosure straight away."  
  
"F.A.B." Alan ceased transmission with a sigh. "Will you be long?" he asked Neil.  
  
"I'm just waiting on the keeper to come back with some transportation for Manu and her mate. I'll report in to Scott as soon as I'm free."  
  
"Okay." With one last look at the kiwi Alan negotiated his way out of the kiwi house. "Be careful when you leave here." he called back over his shoulder. "This entrance way doesn't look too safe."  
  
"No worries mate, thanks."  
  
Alan passed the keeper on his way out of the Kiwi House. Ben, was carrying two cardboard carry cases. The picture on the side of the boxes incorporated the air holes in the box. Alan glanced at the boxes and tried not to laugh. They had a cartoon of a cats tail poking out one of the holes. Remembering Neil's recitation on the Kiwi's predators he had to admit that it was ironic that the very box that was going to transport the kiwi to safety was in fact a cat carry case.  
  
He nodded a greeting to Ben and carried on to the giraffe enclosure.  
  
Ben negotiated the dangerous entranceway and greeted Neil and Manu. "How's she been?"  
  
"No worries. Have you my love." Neil crooned at the Manu. She responded by clacking her bill at him.  
  
"Well I hate to break up this little courtship, but the lady has a boyfriend I'd better rescue. Are you free to give me a hand?"  
  
"Not a problem, just tell me what to do."  
  
They gingerly prised Manu into one of the cat carry cases and Neil gave her one last reluctant pat before they hurriedly closed the box on the waving bill. They then had to negotiate their way into the kiwi cage that the birds called home. Ben had turned the lights on in the kiwi house in the hope that Manu's mate, Hemi, would decide that daylight had come early and would go to sleep somewhere. This would mean that the two men would be able to capture him without having to chase him through the enclosure. It was a plan that worked, up to a point.  
  
Ben spied Hemi in a roosting hollow at the base of one of the trees that had been planted throughout the enclosure. Unfortunately the bird was not asleep, probably it was upset by the turmoil that was going on around him. It was hardly surprising as the bird had had to contend with a tornado, noisy machinery (including the arrival of Thunderbirds One and Two), people invading his sanctuary to rescue the other three kiwi and the two Moreporks that lived with him. The result was that he was thoroughly unsettled, and was NOT going to allow himself to be caught.  
  
Neil had a first hand impression of just how fast a Kiwi could move as Hemi launched himself from under a group of fern fronds, through Neil's blue booted legs, and under another stand of fern. Neil didn't have time to react to the bird, nor had he time to step out of the way of Ben who was chasing Hemi. Both men found themselves sprawling amongst the dirt. Hemi wandered past them, just out of arms reach and disappeared into another log.  
  
Neil and Ben untangled themselves and slowly stood up. "Sorry mate," said Neil apologetically, "He was faster than me."  
  
Ben was rubbing an elbow that he had bumped on a rock. "That's okay, he's already got past me twice!" He looked around. "Where has the little so and so disappeared to? If he'd only realise that we are trying to help him." He stopped as a movement caught his eye. Hemi was taking a circuitous route back to where he had first been found. "We're never going to catch him like this. Look you stay here by the door, and I'll go get a net. I'll only be a couple of minutes."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Neil stood by the door and looked around him. The enclosure had been designed to replicate the natural habitat that the Kiwi were used to. This was the viewing room and therefore had less vegetation than natural bush. The bush that was replicated had been layered to maximise the chances of the public seeing a kiwi. Tall shrubs, with limited foliage stood at the back of the enclosure and Neil imagined that the owls would launch themselves from these vantage points. The front of the enclosure was largely soil and would normally be seeded with worms to keep the Kiwi active and in view. He took a deep breath and smelt the mossy smell of the bush that he remembered so well. A Punga log, its rough, nearly black outer surface covered in long strips of dead fronds was propped against the wall. From the top of the log fragile fronds were sprouting. Neil fingered the delicate green leaf and marvelled at the notion that the frond would grow bigger and tougher and eventually be part of an umbrella of Punga fronds.  
  
It was while he was musing on the beauty of the scene that he became aware of a small figure wandering around his feet. Looking down slowly he was surprised to see Hemi foraging, quite unconcerned about the daylight and the bright blue tree that had magically materialised in his territory.  
  
Neil hesitated; debating the merits of a slow manoeuvre compared with a sudden attack. He made up his mind and swooped on the bird, grabbing its legs in his left hand and wrapping his right arm around the body.  
  
Hemi annoyed at this sudden indignity, managed to free a powerful leg and aimed a kick at Neil's midriff. Neil gasped, surprised by the force of the blow. A tearing sound as the sharp claws ripped into Neil's uniform proceeded a slicing sensation to his abdomen. Neil fought against the twisting bird and managed to gain a firm hold of the offending leg. Hemi exasperated by this sudden loss of mobility, threw back his head and let out the screech that centuries earlier had prompted the Maori race to name his species, 'Kee-wee'.  
  
Neil leant against the wall of the enclosure to regain his breath. A disquieting movement of the structure reminded him that the building was not as strong as he would have liked. The door opened and Ben entered the room. He had a broad grin and carried a large net on the end of a pole. "Looks like I don't need this." he said. "How'd you manage to get him?"  
  
"Just luck." Neil shrugged. "He sure put up a fight though," he added as he and Ben put the protesting Hemi into a box.  
  
Ben started at the strips of blue uniform that hung down from Neil's shirt. Part of the material was beginning to stain dark as blood began to seep through. "I'll say he did. Is that blood his or yours?"  
  
Neil looked down. "It's all mine," he said tightly. "I think our friend came out the better in our little altercation." He looked back at Ben. "What are you going to do with them now?"  
  
"Well there's no room for them in the normal places, such as the hospital, and they seem happy enough in their carry cases so we'll leave them in these in one of the offices in the administration block." He gave an impish grin. "I know, we'll put them in the General Managers office. Tane is the name of the god of the forest, so his namesake can look after his charges.   
  
"The first aid office is in the office block so you can get yourself cleaned up there. In the meantime, if you're not going to expire from blood loss, I wouldn't mind a hand getting these guys to their new accommodation.  
  
Neil was more than happy to help.  
  
In Tane's office Neil carefully opened Hemi's box. The Kiwi was curled up in the bottom, sound asleep, his long beak absurdly tucked under its wing, just as his ancestors would have done. The flap of feathers barely covered the middle of the beak. He was quite content and none the worse for his exciting day. Neil fingered his sore midriff. He couldn't say the same. 


	20. Devastation 5

Devastation 5  
  
Dusk was coming. The air was getting cooler, but the days heat was still radiating off the ground. Bird song filled the air. The army was building a temporary bridge across the Korekeihea River to the zoo and the rescue effort was winding down. Scott, Virgil, Alan, and Neil had assembled in the shadow of Thunderbird Two.  
  
"Where's Gordon?" Virgil asked.  
  
Scott gave a sly grin. "Oh I found an appropriate job for him. The door to the tiger enclosure wasn't fitting properly, so I've sent him to give the maintenance staff a hand. He should be finished shortly."  
  
Alan approved. "Maybe I'll go and see him. Just to tell him we're ready to go, of course."  
  
"Of course," Neil giggled. "What other reason could you have?"  
  
At that moment Tane emerged from his office. "I thought you guys would like an update on how things are going..."  
  
"How's Indirai?" Alan asked  
  
"Both she and the calf appear to be fine. They'll keep an eye on her, but they think she'll carry the calf to full term."  
  
"Glad to hear it." In Alan's mind that one bit of news had made the whole operation worthwhile.  
  
*****  
  
Gordon was cursing Scott under his breath. He knew exactly why his brother had assigned him to this little job and he tried to ignore the claw marks that filled the enclosure, by deciding what punishment was the most suitable.  
  
The maintenance engineer was talking away while he was working. Asking questions and not waiting for the answers. "I guess you guys are always rushing off to some part of the world or other on a rescue. You must get to see a lot of the sights, but then I guess you don't have a lot of time to look at them." 'I guess' seemed to be one of his favourite sayings. "I guess because of all the secrecy you don't get to see a lot of your relations. Mind you, I guess that could be a bonus... Bother!"  
  
"What's the problem?"  
  
"I've just broken one of my tools and I haven't got a spare here. I'll have to go back to my workshop to get another. Do you mind waiting?"  
  
Gordon shrugged. "Sure, I don't think I'm needed elsewhere."  
  
The engineer disappeared out the door and Gordon was left alone with his thoughts.  
  
He had just come up with a particularly appropriate way of getting even with Scott when he was alerted by a sound at the doorway.  
  
He felt his palms go clammy as he slowly raised his intercom. "Gordon to Scott."  
  
No answer.  
  
He tried to keep the panic out of his voice as he tried again.  
  
"Gordon to Scott."  
  
This time there was a reply. "Scott here. What's up?"  
  
To Gordon's ears Scott sounded obscenely cheerful.  
  
"I've seen the tiger."  
  
"Great. Where?"  
  
"He's standing there looking at me."  
  
Scott was about to ask Gordon if he was joking when he realised that something in his brother's voice told him that for once the practical joker was serious.  
  
"How does he look?"  
  
"Hungry!"  
  
"Look don't move. There's an expert on the way."  
  
"Well tell them to hurry, I don't like the way he's crouching down."  
  
Kahn grunted. It had been an interesting day. The weather had been most unsettling, he hadn't been fed at the usual time and he'd spent most of the afternoon hiding from strange, noisy animals that had been roaming about. He was tired, hungry, and now, when he'd found his way home, there was a strange human in his domain. Well he'd just have to show this human the door!  
  
Gordon looked desperately around the enclosure. It was a big room lined with a variety of objects designed to keep a large, male tiger occupied. There was nothing that Gordon could use to protect himself. There was a viewing platform up on the wall, which was out of tiger range. Unfortunately that also meant it was out of Gordon range too.  
  
Kahn made up his mind and sprung. A split second later Gordon dove to his right, although he feared that the action was useless. Fortunately for Gordon, Kahn's paws slipped on the straw and instead of landing on his intended victim he found himself caught up in a rubber tyre that was suspended from the ceiling. Enraged he turned on his victim again.  
  
This time Gordon was sure there would be no reprieve. He was cornered. He braced himself against the wall and waited.  
  
Kahn crouched, ready to spring.  
  
Gordon couldn't take his eyes off the big cat.  
  
Kahn waggled his hind quarters in preparation to spring and...  
  
There was a quiet pop and Kahn sagged to the floor, his tense muscles going limp.  
  
Gordon gaped at the tiger, unsure of what had happened.  
  
"Not a bad bit of shooting was it?" Alan's voice filtered down from above.  
  
Gordon looked up to the viewing platform to see his youngest brother leaning over nonchalantly, his gun with it's green barrel in his hand.  
  
Shannon Brown appeared in the doorway. "What have you done to him?" she cried rushing over to Kahn's side.  
  
"It's only a tranquilliser, he should be fine." Alan called down from his vantage point.  
  
At that point the rest of the International Rescue team arrived, out of breath, having run all the way from Thunderbird One.  
  
"Gordon are you all right?" Scott, Gordon was pleased to see, was a little pale. Perhaps his retribution would not be required.  
  
Gordon peeled himself from the wall and tried to act as if he hadn't been scared out of his wits. "Yeah, I'm fine." He shoved his hands into his pockets in an act that was supposed to display a casual attitude, but which in reality hid his shaking hands. He walked over to where Kahn was lying. The cats tongue was hanging out of his mouth in a goofy attitude. It was hard to believe that this was the same animal that moments ago had intended to harm him.  
  
"He's quite handsome isn't he, that is when he's not trying to run you down."  
  
"Yes he is." Shannon gave Kahn a fond rub behind his ears.  
  
Gordon reached out to give the tiger a quick pat. His hand was still unsteady, but no one remarked about it. A thought occurred to him. "He's not going to get into any trouble is he? I mean he was just trying to protect his territory."  
  
Shannon looked at him. "I'm sure there will be an inquiry, but I can't see them blaming Kahn."  
  
The vet arrived then to check Kahn over. "Looks like you've used some kind of muscle relaxant, he's not completely unconscious."  
  
"That would make sense." Scott had been thinking about the situation. "The drug is designed to knock a human out instantly. An animal with a greater muscle bulk would be affected less."  
  
A rumble emanated from Kahn's chest.  
  
"Sounds like it doesn't last as long either." Alan had descended from the look out. "I don't think I'll bother hanging about." He too gave the tiger a brief pat and then left the building.  
  
Just then the engineer appeared at the door. "Quite a crowd we've got here." He said. "I guess I've got an audience." He tripped over the tiger's tail and then realising that he was in the same room as the big cat dropped the replacement tool on the ground. It broke in two. "Bother," he said.   
  
One by one they filed outside. Shannon shut the door behind them. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on him as he wakes up." She said.  
  
On the way back to Thunderbird One, Alan and Gordon fell behind the rest. "That was a good bit of shooting." Gordon said, "thanks."  
  
"No problem." Alan acknowledged. "Glad to be of help."  
  
They continued the climb up the hill to where the Thunderbird craft were waiting to take them home. 


	21. Paparoa 1

Paparoa 1  
  
Robin Shirtcliffe skidded down the muddy slope, hit the bottom and kept on running. Supplejack plants threatened to throttle him, as the New Zealand Department of Conservation Ranger blundered through their tendrils. Bush Lawyer, it's long thin leaves covered in spines, grabbed his bush shirt, scratched his face and hands, and impeded his progress, but he paid them no mind. He had to keep moving. Birds fled deep into the bush to escape this human projectile.  
  
He rounded a corner in broke into a clearing. Ahead lay a D.o.C. hut. That would have a two-way radio! The door slammed back against the wall as he raced inside. There was the radio! He grabbed the hand piece and without waiting to gather breath, switched it on.  
  
There was no reassuring crackle of static. The machine remained mute. Feverishly he scanned the dials to check the settings were correct and then pulled the table out from the wall to check the connections. It was then that he realised why the radio wasn't working. The power cord that connected it to the solar panel had been gnawed through. A small, recent, pile of droppings identified the culprit as a rat.  
  
Suddenly his pack felt as if it were made of lead and he slid it from his aching shoulders. He was cold and he was wet. He was also hungry. Numb fingers refused to co-operate as he tried to open the pack. Once he had managed to extract an energy bar he sat down on one of the bunks to consider his options.  
  
Point one: He had to get help as soon as possible.  
  
Point two: It was starting to get dark, and the wind and rain would make the track doubly hard to follow and dangerous.  
  
Point three: The cold and wet would be even more debilitating for the injured man he'd left behind.  
  
Point four: He was tired and his aching muscles were beginning to seize up. He was a fit man, but he'd run several miles over rough terrain with a full pack. He didn't think he would have the energy to continue tonight.  
  
The sugar must have reached his brain as he was beginning to feel more in control of the situation. He looked again at the dead radio. If he could mend that cord...  
  
He got to his feet and staggered slightly as his muscles protested, but managed to walk over to the radio.  
  
He turned off the power, removed the cover to the radio and looked inside.  
  
"Damn."  
  
Curled up in a nest of wiring were a family of baby rats. Mother was clearly off gathering food having left her off spring in a nice, warm, sheltered bed. A bed made up of the intricate workings of the now useless radio.  
  
If he'd been stronger, he'd have exterminated them, knowing they were a noxious pest. But now he felt as if he'd lost the last of his strength. He made it back to the bunk and fell onto it. His clothes were wet, but he couldn't be bothered changing them. He dragged his sleeping bag out of the pack, laid it on top of himself and in spite of his worries instantly fell asleep.  
  
He awoke before day-break feeling somewhat refreshed. He made himself a hasty breakfast and readied his pack for the days challenges. He thought of leaving the bag behind, but realised that if he were to have an accident it would be his only chance of survival.  
  
As soon as the morning started to grow light he pushed off again. The weather was no better, but he knew that he should reach the first signs of civilisation before nightfall. He had to. Men's lives depended on it. IF he wasn't already too late....  
  
*****  
  
On Tracy Island the sun was still waiting for its time to make its appearance, Neil however was already up, in the gym. The rest of the household were still sound asleep. They were just starting to stir when he finished his session.  
  
"Morning all." he said cheerfully as they all wondered bleary eyed into the kitchen.  
  
Alan looked at him through eyes still caked with sleep. "How can you be so cheerful at this time of the morning."  
  
"It's the best time of the day, everything seems bright and fresh and new..."  
  
"And you sound like an ad for a laundry detergent." Gordon grumbled.  
  
Whistling softly to himself, Neil helped prepare breakfast. Exchanges like that made him feel like he was finally becoming part of the family, part of the team.  
  
He was ready with his scuba gear almost as soon as he'd finished breakfast. "C'mon Gordon, you promised to introduce me to an octopus today."  
  
Gordon was still in his dressing gown. "Okay," he sighed, "give me a few minutes to get ready and I'll be with you."  
  
"Anyone else want to join us?" Neil asked cheerfully.  
  
"No thanks." Scott told him. "We've all got equipment checks we've got to do."  
  
After Neil had left, Jeff laid down his knife. "He's good value. I'm glad we've hired him."  
  
"Neil? Yeah, and he's fitting in well too." Scott was still finishing his breakfast.  
  
"He's considerate too," Grandma added. "He doesn't just throw his clothes onto the floor instead of putting them in the laundry basket." She looked pointedly at Alan.  
  
"He's a fast learner." Virgil was starting to clear the table. "I only had to show him how to operate the magnetic grabs once and he was using them like an old pro."  
  
"H-he was able to offer me pertinent advice r-regarding the development of our latest f-fire extinguisher." Brains was appreciative of Neil's skills too.  
  
Tin-Tin also felt that Neil was an asset. "He's updated me on some of the latest first aid techniques. I should go on a refresher course..." She looked hopefully at Jeff.  
  
"You're right honey. I'll arrange for you to go on a course and then you can refresh us all."  
  
*****  
  
The dense bush restricted the amount of rain that was able to seep though, but the track was still wet and slippery. He pressed on regardless.  
  
The track suddenly disappeared from under his feet and he slid, out of control, down an avalanche of rock, mud, leaves and branches. He reached out for something to control his descent, but nothing held him. He was slamming into jutting roots and jagged stones. His pack snagged on an outstretched branch and he was jolted to a stop. He found himself dangling above a precipice, the straps from his pack, cutting into his armpits but saving him from falling all the way to the riverbed below. His legs, arms and face stung from the cuts and bruises they'd received, but he was otherwise unhurt.  
  
Now what was he supposed to do? Trying not to shift his weight he looked around him. The heavy rains had clearly weakened the hillside and swept the track away in a landslide. There was no way that they would be able to get a stretcher out this way. To his right was bare loose soil. The rains causing it to continue to wash down the hillside. To his left the hillside was still intact, but out of arms reach. He carefully turned to look behind him, but his pack obliterated his view.  
  
The pelting rain was making it difficult for him to keep his eyes open, so he was working mainly by touch. Moving slowly he inched his way upwards until he was able to sit on a bit of ground that seemed relatively secure. He then removed his arms from his pack straps and turned so that he had hold of the branch that had stopped his fall. Now that he was able to see behind him he realised that the contents of his pack were strewn about. As he watched his first aid kit slid past him and over the edge. It burst on impact and rolled down to the riverbank, festooning a trail of bandages as it went.  
  
He examined his pack. It was now useless, having been ripped wide open, but he had no desire to cause it to follow the first aid kit, as it had saved his life.  
  
He felt inside and was surprised to find a surviving energy bar, a little broken but with it's protective covering still intact. He put it into his pocket.  
  
Now what to do? He manoeuvred himself so that he was straddling the branch that had quite probably saved his life, and examined his pack more closely. The framework was bent but still intact and the straps still strong. If he could lasso a branch he might be able to swing across to the undamaged hillside. He tried several times and failed.  
  
A fraction higher up the hill was an overhanging branch. He couldn't reach it from a sitting position, but if he could stand...  
  
Still working slowly, trying to keep his weight constant and even, he stood up, and got as close to a balanced footing as was possible on a 15 centimetre wide branch. He then took a few experimental swings before aiming for the lifeline.  
  
It was too much for his foot stand. With a loud crack it broke and once again he found himself careering down the cliff face towards the rocks below.  
  
Once again his luck held. His outstretched pack snagged yet another branch and despite complaints from his muscles he managed to keeps his grip on the other strap. His downward momentum forced him to continue moving at a diagonal angle until he slammed into a rock and stopped. He was winded, sore but alive.  
  
He lay still for a while trying to get his breath back, and then crawled into the relative safety of the bush and sat with his back braced against a tree. Reaching into his pocket he retrieved the energy bar and ripped open one end. It's contents had largely been reduced to powder and he poured them into his mouth.  
  
After a few moments he felt strong enough to continue the climb down to the riverbank below. There he knew he would find the continuation of the path that would lead him to civilisation and alert the authorities to the emergency that he had left a day and a half ago. He had all but forgotten the reason for his flight in the terrifying drama that had occurred over the last few minutes. Was he risking his neck in vain?  
  
He continued on his way. 


	22. Paparoa 2

Paparoa 2  
  
The octopus glared at Neil from beneath it's rock. It did not want to be disturbed.  
  
Neil dangled a piece of crab, still in its shell, enticingly in front of it. "Come on Olly," he said, "we won't hurt you."  
  
Gordon laughed, the sound was relayed to Neil's ears via an intercom installed in each mans facemask. "They're not stupid you know. He realises that you're just going to tease him with it. Here..." he took the crab from Neil and laid it on a piece of coral a short distance away from where the octopus was hiding. "...now move back and wait."  
  
Neil did as he was told. A sinuous arm appeared from under the rock, followed by another and another and then the body of the octopus. It slowly crept along the bottom of the seabed prepared to flee should anything threaten it. It reached the crab and once again an arm reached out...  
  
"Strewth!" The octopus had grabbed the crab and fled back under its rock. It's speed had astonished Neil. "That's real jet propulsion! I'll bet it would put Thunderbird One to shame."  
  
"Look over here," Gordon had found another treasure. "Look there's a manta ray."  
  
The great fish sailed gracefully overhead, it's two 'horns' sweeping minute plankton into its gaping mouth. Gordon swam up beside it and kept pace with it, admiring its flaps beating slowly like wings, flying under water.  
  
The only sound that disturbed the silence was the sound of their own breathing.  
  
"Calling Neil and Gordon, are you two still playing?" Scott's voice seemed to come from nowhere.  
  
"Yeah, we're still here." Gordon answered him.  
  
"Tell Neil that I'm all set to give him some lessons on flying Thunderbird One, if he's still interested."  
  
"IF I'm still interested. Just try and stop me" Neil turned and started swimming for the shore at a speed that would have impressed the octopus.  
  
*****  
  
Robin Shirtcliffe paused to regain his breath and then set off at a run again. He rounded a corner and caught a flash of something bright orange.  
  
"Hey!" he tried to yell but couldn't make his voice heard above the rain and the wind beating at the trees. Was it his imagination or was the weather getting worse? Once again he lurched forward at a trot.  
  
Another bend and he caught sight of the orange again. It was a backpack attached to a man wearing dark green waterproofs. Preceding the man were two women and in front of them was another man.  
  
"Hey wait!" Robin pleaded. To his immense relief they turned. "Do you have a radio?"  
  
They frowned. "Ray-de-oh." the man with the orange pack enunciated, then his face broke into a smile. He hoisted the orange pack from his shoulders, rummaged inside and produced a small transistor radio.  
  
"No, no that's not what I meant." Robin couldn't believe that help was so close and yet so elusive. "What nationality are you? Français? Deutsche?"  
  
"Ja, Deutsche." Orange Pack slapped his chest.  
  
Struggling to remember what little German he knew Robin managed to make them understand that he needed to be able to contact D.o.C headquarters. Unfortunately the party did not carry any type of mobile communications.  
  
Once again Orange Pack smiled. "I go, get help." he said in English and moved to set off.  
  
"Wait!" Robin called after him, "You'll have to tell them about the others." Orange Pack shrugged and looked at him quizzedly. Robin mimed writing. "Do you have a pen and paper?"  
  
One of the women searched her pack and came out with a diary and a pencil. Robin grabbed it, tore a page out and hurriedly scribbled a note on it. He gave it to Orange Pack. "Give this to someone at D.o.C headquarters, they'll give it to Jason Trolley. I've written his name on the outside."  
  
Orange Pack said "Ja" and started to head along the track at a jog. Robin had a feeling that he hadn't understood a word.  
  
Robin looked at his new companions. "Danke." was all he could think of to say.  
  
*****  
  
Despite the fact that he was sitting at a simulator and not at the controls of the real thing Neil was having a ball.  
  
"Way hay." he cried and pushed the acceleration lever still further forward. The artificial landscape flashed past.  
  
"You carry on like that and you'll be 'way hay' straight into a mountain." Scott warned him.  
  
"That's why I'm doing it here." Neil turned to Scott, "where I know I'm safe."  
  
"Look out!" Scott pointed out the imaginary window. Neil turned back but it was too late. The display changed into a cocktail of fiery colours and the room went black.  
  
"You crashed!" Scott said quietly.  
  
Neil shrugged. "At least we got out of it alive," he laughed. He noticed Scott's scowl. "Okay. Party's over. This time I'll concentrate." He turned back to the control panel and the indicator lights lit up again. The view 'outside' the window was of a flat plain. Thunderbird One was clearly ready for vertical take off. He gently ignited the vertical jets and the simulator shuddered as it mimicked the forces affecting the real plane leaving the ground.  
  
*****  
  
Jason Trolley read the note again. It was not good news. Three men trapped in the bush, one with serious head injuries, and a cyclone on the way. An air rescue would be impossible in the high winds that were starting to hit the National Park and a land rescue would take days to reach the survivors, especially if, as the note said, the track had been destroyed.  
  
He flicked through his telephone directory, finding the numbers of people that he would have to contact. As his eyes scanned the quickly moving pages two words resolved themselves into one recognisable phrase. He lent on the desk, "International Rescue! I wonder if they can help."  
  
Up in Thunderbird Five, John Tracy answered the emergency call as soon as it was received. "International Rescue. Go ahead caller."  
  
"This is Jason Trolley, District Conservator of the Paparoa National Park, New Zealand. We have an emergency. Can you help?" He gave John a brief rundown of the situation.  
  
"Affirmative. Stay on the line and I'll get back to you in a moment." John changed channel. "Thunderbird Five to base..." His fathers face appeared on the video screen.  
  
"Go ahead John!"  
  
John gave him an outline of what Jason had said. "If that guy's got a head injury and been out in the weather for nearly 48 hours, he's going to be in a bad way."  
  
Jeff gave a grimace as he pressed the button that alerted the crew that they had a job to do. "You're right. It may be one time that International Rescue is too late." Scott was the first to arrive on the scene. "Get going in Thunderbird One son, and head for New Zealand. John will brief you once you once you are airborne. We haven't got time to waste on this one." Virgil and Neil ran into the room. "Boys, get Alan and get going. You'll need pod three. You're heading to New Zealand."  
  
"What again?" Neil was dumb-founded. "The country hardly sees you guys and then as soon as I join you're hardly away from the place."  
  
"C'mon," Virgil pulled Neil's sleeve, "we've got to get moving. You'd better go get Alan."  
  
Neil ran from the room and cannoned into Alan. "Sorry mate," he apologised. "Your father wants you to come with us. Virgil's already in Thunderbird Two."  
  
"What's up?" Alan asked as they descended in the elevator."  
  
Neil shrugged. "All I know is we're taking pod three and we're going to New Zealand again. Guess we'll be told soon enough."  
  
Virgil had been briefed by the time they had dressed and arrived in Thunderbird Two's cabin. "We're going bush. Some guys hurt himself when tramping and a cyclone is preventing regular rescuers from getting to him. You'd better buckle up, it's going to be a rough trip."  
  
The cliff door started to retract and sunshine streamed in. "Seems to be a nice enough day..." Neil commented.  
  
*****  
  
The craft bucked and swayed. Rain lashed at the windscreen. Scott had flown above the cyclone and was now descending through the storm clouds. "Just like being in a washing machine" he thought grimly as he fought to maintain control.  
  
He was relying totally on his instrumentation to tell him where he was. He knew that he was less than 100 metres above the ground, but he had little idea what lay on that ground. Radar picked up a building to his left and trees to his right. If his calculations were correct this was the car park that he'd been told he could land in. With a shudder the scout craft touched the ground and he shut down the jets. Even through the super strong hull he could hear the gusts of wind screaming past at up to 200 kilometres per hour. Thunderbird One was rocking slightly and to guard against his plane being uprooted, Scott activated a switch. Grabs sunk into the tarseal and held firm.  
  
"Thunderbird Five from Thunderbird One. I've landed."  
  
He left his seat and headed for the door. He was met by Jason Trolley, leaning against the force of the wind.  
  
"Glad to meet you!" Jason yelled.  
  
"What!" Scott yelled in return. "I can't hear you above this wind. Give me a hand with my gear." He motioned to where Mobile Control had emerged from Thunderbird One's undercarriage.  
  
Jason hadn't understood a word that Scott had said either, but realising that the equipment was to go into the building helped the gentleman from International Rescue.  
  
Once inside Jason was able to introduce himself. He also introduced Scott to Robin who had finally made it to the D.o.C. H.Q.  
  
Scott surveyed Robin's dishevelled appearance, noting his scratches and bruises. "Looks like you've been through quite a bit!"  
  
"Yeah, but that's nothing compared with what you guys will have to face."  
  
"You say that we can't get in contact with them?"  
  
"No. One of our radios developed a fault, and Mako was carrying the spare when he fell. We had to cut his pack loose to help him and it was washed down stream. I doubt that it would have been in working order anyway."  
  
Scott bent over a map. "Where exactly were you?"  
  
Robin's finger traced the line that marked the trail. "There. Mako had gone to check a possum bait station that was slightly off the track when we heard a yell. There's been a lot of rain lately and the ground must have given way when he trod on it. He fell about 30 metres. I was sure he was a goner. Barry abseiled down and found him unconscious in the river. Fortunately he'd landed in such a way that his head was above water. We stabilised and immobilised him as much as possible and then decided that as we had to move him out of the water, we'd shift him so that he had the protection of an overhanging ridge. I'm glad we did in view of this cyclone! I'm the fastest runner so we decided that I'd go for help and the other two would look after him. They have their survival kits and extra food but two days in this weather..." He trailed off.  
  
"What state was the injured man in when you left?"  
  
"Still unconscious. He seemed to have lost a lot of blood, but you know how that stuff dilutes when mixed with water. He clearly had several broken bones, right fiba, left forearm. His nose looked pretty mashed up too. His pulse still seemed relatively strong though which was a good sign. Hypothermia may well be his biggest concern. And not only for him either! That rain's mighty icy."  
  
Scott checked his watch. Thunderbird Two was due to arrive at any moment. "Right!" he said gathering up the map in preparation for scanning. "I'll radio that information through. It'll only waste time if our team land here so I'll send them straight on to the rescue scene..."  
  
***** 


	23. Paparoa 3

Paparoa 3  
  
Virgil lowered Thunderbird Two closer to the ground, a blast from it's vertical jets turning the driving rain into clouds of billowing steam.  
  
"Is this the spot?" Neil looked out of the window. He could see nothing through the river of water that ran off the plane."  
  
"According to our instruments it is. We'll just have to hope that our information is correct." Virgil told him.  
  
It had been decided that Alan and Neil would be lowered down through the thick canopy to the ground below and they readied themselves for the descent. A hatch beneath them opened up. All they could see were horizontal sheets of driving rain.  
  
"Gee. This is going to be fun." Neil said flatly as he surveyed the scene below him. "Can you get us lower Virgil?"  
  
"A little."  
  
"Those trees are going to be flapping about a bit."  
  
"Not scared are you?" Alan asked him.  
  
Neil looked at him. "Scared? No. Cautious? Yes." He double checked his harness and stepped off into space. "See you down there." Slowly he began the descent.   
  
He was soon obliterated from view. The only visual link they had with him was the cable that suspended him. A cable which was whipping around alarmingly.  
  
"You okay Neil?" Virgil sent out a radio message.  
  
"Sure. Piece of cake. I've just touched down in a clearing. Good piloting skipper. Send down Alan and the stretcher."  
  
"You heard him Alan. Are you ready to go?" Virgil asked his youngest brother.  
  
"FAB." Alan stepped out into the maelstrom.  
  
The ride down was rougher than he'd expected. Even with Neil steadying his cable from the ground, the wind still caught the stretcher and spun them round. Alan was glad when his feet were on firm, if not dry, land.  
  
"Have a good trip?" Neil asked him.  
  
"I've had better." Alan replied a trifle shakily.  
  
Neil looked closely at his associate. "Hey! You look a bit green about the gills."  
  
"No, I'm fine." Alan pushed him away. "That ride was just a bit rough, that's all! I'll be okay."  
  
"Here!" Neil walked over to a bush. It's long, pale green leaves were bending away from the direction of the wind. He grabbed at a branch and plucked the tender shoots from its tip. "Chew on this."  
  
Alan looked at the greenery, askance. "What is it?"  
  
"Koromiko. It's great for upset stomachs. It's one of the original Maori medicines. Mind you," he added as an afterthought, "the ancient Maori never had to deal with being dropped from a supersonic jet plane."  
  
Above the wind another voice could be heard. "Thunderbird Two to Alan and Neil. Everything okay."  
  
Neil spoke into his mike. "FAB. We're just fixing up some, er, housekeeping before we get started. We're ready to go now." Alan nodded affirmative.  
  
Carrying the stretcher between them they pushed off towards where they assumed that the trapped men would be sheltering. "I don't get it," Neil was saying conversationally. "You're a motor racing driver, you pilot numerous fast, strange vehicles including a space ship and yet a little trip like that sets you funny."  
  
"Yeah well, I guess I find it better if I have some control over the movement. I even used to get car sick in the back seat of the family car when we went on holiday. The funny thing is that I never once had any trouble during my astronaut training, and that included some pretty hair-raising manoeuvres."  
  
They had reached another clearing. The rain seemed to have eased off a bit. Above them they could see Thunderbird Two.  
  
Neil looked at the underbelly of the plane. "Hey that's some umbrella we've got!"  
  
Virgil's voice came out of nowhere. "I can see someone. Due north of your position."  
  
"Great!" Alan and Neil pushed on.   
  
*****  
  
Barry rushed back to where Mako and Croft were sheltering. "There's a big plane overhead. I think it's seen us!" He knelt close to Mako. "It's all right mate. Helps on its way, you'll be right soon."  
  
Still unconscious, Mako was oblivious to what was going on around him.  
  
"How can you be sure?" Croft asked "How could anyone see us from a plane. And what's a plane doing out in this weather anyway?"  
  
"I could be wrong," Barry told him, "but I think I saw the word 'Thunderbird' on the side of the craft."  
  
"'Thunderbird'! But that's an International Rescue craft isn't it? I guess they're the only ones who are able to reach us in this storm."  
  
They became aware of another sound over the roar of the wind. Barry grabbed Croft's arm. "That's them. C'mon." Together the rushed out from the protective shelter of the cliff face and began to signal wildly at Thunderbird Two.   
  
"This is International Rescue." Virgil's voice boomed out over a tannoy system. "We can see you. Two of our operatives are heading in your direction from the south." As if on cue Alan and Neil struggled out of the thick undergrowth.  
  
"Gidday." Neil greeted them. "Hear you need some help."  
  
"Do we ever," Barry told him. "Mako's not looking good." He led the way back under the jutting cliff that had been their home for the last two days. "The sooner we can get him to a hospital the better."  
  
"Has he been unconscious all that time?" Neil asked.  
  
"He's regained semi-consciousness sometimes. Hasn't seemed to be able to understand us though, and has tried to communicate with his ancestors in Maori."  
  
"Really! That's interesting." Neil was examining Mako's head wounds. "Ka te pai koa a pouri" He murmured. Mako's eyelids flickered.   
  
"What did you say?" Alan asked.  
  
"Just told him everything's going to be fine."  
  
Barry was staring at Neil. "You're a New Zealander!"  
  
Neil tried to appear unconcerned. "I've spent some time here, yes."  
  
Alan spoke up, his American accent contrasting sharply with the others. "In our line of business it helps to know several languages, unfortunately I haven't learnt Maori."  
  
Neil had finished his examination of Mako. "Right. You've done a good job patching him up. I'll just do a little remedial work and then we can stretcher him out of here..."  
  
"You're not going to carry him out in this weather are you!" Croft broke in.  
  
"No, the tracks impassable. Besides we don't need to, Thunderbird Two will be able to lift us all out."  
  
While Neil continued with his ministrations, Alan took the opportunity to wander about looking for a clearing large enough to received Thunderbird Two's 'elevator' car. He found one, 10 metres further north of their position, that was fairly easy to reach. He'd just finished radioing this information to Virgil when Barry appeared at his side.  
  
"Your associate says he's ready to go."  
  
"Good." Alan surveyed the sodden cliff face. Cracks were appearing everywhere and rocks jutted out unnervingly. "That wall's absorbed a heck of a lot of water. It doesn't look too secure. The sooner we get away from here the better." A lump of earth rolled down, narrowly missing the two men. They hurried back to the others.  
  
It only took a few minutes to manoeuvre Mako onto the stretcher. Neil hurriedly packed up his pack, which he swung onto his back. "Right! Lets go..."  
  
There was a roar and an avalanche of onrushing rocks, mud and debris suddenly blacked out the murky light. Instinctively Alan and Neil threw themselves over Mako to protect him. It seemed as if they were going to be buried alive... 


	24. Collapse 1

Collapse 1  
  
Virgil had been keeping an eye on the cliff face through scanners mounted on the underside of Thunderbird Two. He saw the side of the hill disappear in a cloud of mud and water. He reached for the microphone. "Alan! Neil! Can you hear me?"  
  
There was no reply.  
  
He tried again.  
  
Still nothing.  
  
He changed the frequency and was soon relaying what happened to Scott.  
  
"Any sign of them yet?" Scott asked grimly.  
  
"Negative. The landscape's changed so much I can barely pick out where they were."  
  
Scott thought a moment. "There's nowhere you can land nearby is there?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Okay, come and pick me up and you can drop me at the site..."  
  
They were interrupted by a familiar voice. "Alan to Thunderbird Two and Scott. Do you read me?"  
  
Scott fairly shouted into the mike. "Alan! Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah, we're all fine. A few scratches and that's all. Our radio got buried under all this rubble. Our patient's okay, but now we can't get him out. It seemed as if the entire world crashed down on us."  
  
"Close," Virgil told him. "The entire cliff side has subsided."  
  
"Yeah, well, we can't climb out, the fresh debris is too unstable and the stretchers too unwieldy and the hole in the, ah, roof, is to small to airlift him out."  
  
"Can someone climb through that hole?" Scott asked.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so," Alan didn't sound convinced. "He'd have to climb up the original cliff face, assuming it's stable enough. I've got rock-climbing gear in my pack. The problem then is how to get the stretcher out."  
  
"And there's definitely no other way out."  
  
"Definitely."  
  
"Well then, we'll just have to make the hole bigger."  
  
*****  
  
Virgil had returned to Mobile Control and now Scott was getting a first hand look at the pile of mud and rock that imprisoned the five men below. He whistled. "Messy."  
  
"Yeah," Virgil agreed, "d'you think we can clear enough of that debris without bringing more down onto them."  
  
"Don't know. Explosives would be too dangerous."  
  
"I guess our only option are the pincer grabs."  
  
"Yes. It's going to be tricky though. One false move on our behalf and..." Scott didn't need to finish his sentence. He gave a sigh and stood up. "Right, lets get cracking. Bring Thunderbird Two down as low as is safe and I'll get the grabs into position." He disappeared out of the cabin leaving Virgil to manoeuvre the giant plane into position.  
  
The weather hadn't improved at all, although the radar screens were showing that the eye of the cyclone was nearing. Virgil hoped that the eye would hover over the area long enough for them to effect the rescue. It would be so much easier all round if the wind would die down temporarily.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by Scott's voice. "I'm in position."  
  
"Right. Can you see the hole?"  
  
"I think I can see the edge of it. Move left-left two degrees."  
  
Virgil made the adjustment and through the hatch in Thunderbird Two's undercarriage Scott saw the hole swing into view. "Right Virg. Stop there!" He heard the sound of the jets lessen as the plane hovered over the hole. Alan was right, there was barely enough room for a body to crawl through, let alone air lift an injured man tied to a stretcher.  
  
Scott activated the grabs. Slowly they descended from Thunderbird Two's underbelly. Made of Herculerium, they weighed nearly a ton, but even so the wind caught them and set them swinging. The motion ran through the 'plane.  
  
Virgil's voice came out of Scott's earphones. "Gosh that winds strong." The sound of the jets started up again as Virgil made the necessary correction to keep Thunderbird Two in position. "That wind had better die down before we have to move our man."  
  
Scott agreed. Watching the grabs sway like a flower in a gentle breeze did not make him feel confident about his ability to use the grabs effectively and safely. Well! He'd just have to concentrate more.  
  
The grabs had reached their destination. Scott spoke into his microphone. "I'm ready to start."  
  
It was Alan who replied. "Great, Scott. We've moved as far away from the opening as is practicable. Be careful though. We haven't got a lot of room down here."  
  
Scott started on the outer slope of the rock pile, hoping that gravity might assist him in sending the dangerous debris away from those trapped inside. The grabs opened out like a giant hand, grabbed a 'fistful' of debris from the bottom of the pile and dragged it away.  
  
The debris pile stayed obstinately still.  
  
Neil grabbed the microphone. "Hate to hurry you guys, but the sooner we can get this guy to hospital, the better he'll be."  
  
"Right!" Scott replied. "Brace yourselves, I'll try and remove the top edge of the rock pile."  
  
The first 'fistful' of debris was removed without incident. Scott manoeuvred the grabs so the waste was deposited away from the danger zone.  
  
Once again he lowered the grabs, opening them out as wide as they would go in order to speed up the extension of the hole.  
  
A gust of wind, twice as powerful as anything they'd experience earlier, caught the grabs and swung them into the cliff face.  
  
What the heck!" In the cabin of Thunderbird Two, Virgil fought the controls as the craft bucked around in its counter motion.  
  
The movement tossed Scott around. Just as he was flung against the wall he caught a glimpse of something large flying through the air beneath them.  
  
"You alright Scott?" Virgil queried over the intercom.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine." Scott stood up and rubbed his elbow where he'd banged it against the wall. "That was some gust of ...Would you take a look at that!"  
  
"What?" From Virgil's perspective he couldn't see where Scott was pointing.  
  
"There's a tree caught in the cable. It's huge. That last gust of wind must have blown it there."  
  
A large Rimu tree, its graceful branches hanging forlornly at an unnatural angle, was wrapped around the cable. Scott estimated the tree to be about 30 metres high and with a girth of about three metres diameter.  
  
"Will it cause any trouble?" Virgil asked.  
  
"I doubt it." Once again Scott activated the grabs.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
He tried swinging the grabs away from the hole so that he could dislodge the tree.  
  
"Hey! What's going on?" They could here Alan's voice. "Is everything okay up there?"  
  
"Yeah, fine." Scott replied. "I'm just having a problem shifting the grabs."  
  
"No wonder. They're wedged between the cliff face and the debris. Shut them a fraction and you should be able to withdraw them."  
  
Scott tried to close the grabs jaws. The controls did not respond. "Something seems to be jamming them." He said over the intercom.  
  
"Could it be that tree?" Virgil asked.  
  
"I doubt it. It's too high up the cable and besides the grabs are shielded against foreign bodies."  
  
"Try again!"  
  
"I am. Nothin's happening."  
  
"We've got to do something. If I raise Thunderbird Two up would it dislodge any debris?"  
  
"Yeah, probably bring the whole lot down onto them. The tree as well!"  
  
"We can't cut the cable in case the grabs fall."  
  
"Right!"  
  
"So we've got to find out what's jamming the grabs open."  
  
"And the only way we're going to be able to do that is to get a man to inspect them." Scott changed intercom channel. "Alan, can you hear me."  
  
"Sure thing Scott."  
  
"We've got to find out what's jamming the grabs. Can you climb up and check it out?"  
  
Alan glanced at Neil and then looked up to where the grabs were stuck. "Yeah, I guess so."  
  
"Okay, do it. Once we know why we can't close the grabs we can remedy the problem."  
  
"Right, I'm onto it. Out." Alan started readying his equipment.   
  
Neil came over to him. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he said quietly.  
  
Without looking up from his work Alan replied equally softly. "What choice have we got. You've got to look after that guy and we can't expect the others to do our work. It's only a reconnaissance manoeuvre. No sweat."  
  
"Okay." Neil said reluctantly. "Let me know when you need a hand." 


	25. Collapse 2

Collapse 2  
  
Alan was soon kitted up. He stepped into his harness, adjusted the straps and began his ascent.  
  
It wasn't the highest climb he'd ever done, by any means. Heck the cliff they practised on back on Tracy Island was higher than this. The danger came in the precarious nature of the cliff. Alan had no way of knowing if it would hold his weight.  
  
So far so good, he was at least half way there. Alan drove a chuck into the cliff, looped his safety line through the carabiner and looked around for his next foothold. Finding it, he crawled a little further upwards. Now for the left foot. That was holding. Now the right hand, left hand...  
  
He felt about, trying to find the smallest ledge that would support his weight. There was nothing within reach. Looking past his outstretched arm he spied a good-sized, secure looking outcrop of rock. He could put all his weight onto his left foot and make a grab for it.  
  
No that was too risky. Looking down, Alan found a ledge above the one that his left foot was standing on. He put his weight onto that and it held. His right foot found safety on another ledge and he found that the rocky outcrop was now within reach. His left hand closed around it...  
  
The rock came away in his hand. Thank heavens he hadn't gambled on it holding. He remembered the training session when Neil had released the safety line. Alan had been annoyed at the time, but although he hated to admit it, it had been a good lesson. He dropped the lump of rock to the ground and continued his climb.  
  
"How're you going?" Neil called up from below.  
  
"Fine." Alan shouted back. "Only a few minutes more." His objective was only a couple of metres away. Those few minutes seemed to take forever.   
  
At last he was able to touch the Herculerium. Alan cast an expert eye over the machinery. From this angle he could see nothing that would prevent the grabs from working. Once again he spoke into his intercom.  
  
"Scott."  
  
"Yes Alan."  
  
"I'm going to have to climb out onto the grabs to get a better look. Make sure you've got them set at full extension. I don't want them suddenly collapsing on me."  
  
"FAB. Be careful."  
  
Gingerly he adjusted his angle so that he was actually clinging to the grabs. He then slowly started to climb along one set of jaws, trying to concentrate on finding what was impeding the grabs while at the same time trying to ignore the drop to the ground below him.  
  
He reached the fulcrum. Each joint had a protective shield to prevent bits of debris jamming in the pivot point. It was unlikely, but it was possible that something had managed to work its way up under this shield. He took a tool out from a pocket and loosened the shield on his side. He was then able to raise it out of the way. Nothing. With a mild curse he reassembled the shield.  
  
"Scott, I'm going to have to climb across to the other side of the fulcrum. Watch out in case my weight shifts things."  
  
"Okay Alan."  
  
Alan glanced down at the party below. They were bent over Mako. Neil was working on him and it looked as if he was installing another drip. They'd have to get him out quickly. Alan started his transfer from one side to the other.  
  
"His blood pressure's dropping." Neil looked at the two Rangers. "We'll have to hope that that drip will keep him going until we get him to hospital."  
  
"How long will that take?" Croft wanted to know.  
  
Neil looked up to where Alan was inching across the grabs. "I don't know. It all depends on how soon we can get that hole big enough to lift him out.""  
  
Scott was getting a different view of Alan's traverse of the grabs, his brothers blond head standing out clearly against the blackness of the hole below. "Found anything Alan?"  
  
"Negative. So far everything is clean. There must be something under the other shield."  
  
"I'd come down and give you a hand, but with this wind it's still too dangerous."  
  
Alan looked up. The tree was flapping wildly in the wind. "No, you stay there and you and Virgil concentrate on keeping this thing as steady as possible until I'm well clear. I'm removing the other shield now." He lifted the shield clear. "Can't see anything... hang on, what's this."  
  
"What?" Scott asked eagerly.  
  
"It's a bit of rock, about 5 centimetres diameter. It's jammed in under the shield and stopping the jaws from closing." Alan tapped at the stone with his climbing hammer and it came free, dropping into his hand. He put both the stone and the hammer into a pocket and started to make his way back the way he came. Once he had a firm grip of the cliff face he readied himself to abseil down. "Right activate the grabs."  
  
"Are you clear?" Scott asked.  
  
"Clear enough. We haven't got time to waste."  
  
The two jaws slowly came together and the grabs rose up out of the hole. Alan had to swing out of the way to avoid some falling rocks. His descent was much quicker than the climb.  
  
"So you succeeded then?" Neil said when Alan had rejoined the group.  
  
"Yep, not a problem." Alan told him.  
  
They all looked up as the grabs took hold of some of the debris and moved it to one side. They could now clearly see the undercarriage of Thunderbird Two.  
  
Neil turned back to Mako, checking his pulse, blood pressure and breathing. "Hang on mate, we're nearly out of here" he told him.  
  
Mako's eyelids flickered and he groaned. "Hey that's a good sign!" Alan exclaimed.  
  
The grabs took another bite at the rock pile and through the branches of the Rimu they were able to read the words 'Thunderbird Two' on the underside of the 'plane.   
  
Virgil checked the weather gauge. "The eye of the storm is overhead, Scott. Now's the time to evacuate them, the wind's starting to ease off."  
  
"We've got to get rid of that tree first." Scott reminded him.  
  
"Okay. I'll move Two forward a fraction. Lower the grabs so that the tree brushes through the canopy. With any luck we'll be able to dislodge it."  
  
Scott lowered the grabs so that they were nearly scraping along the forest floor. As Thunderbird Two moved forward the Rimu got hooked up in the limbs of an ancient beech.  
  
"Hold it!" Scott ordered. He experimented with retracting the grabs slowly. At first it met with resistance but suddenly the Rimu slid off the cable and fell to the ground. A fountain of leaves and twigs marking its final resting place. The grabs retracted into the undercarriage. "Okay Virg. We're clear to continue with the rescue."  
  
Scott repositioned himself so that he could operate the rescue elevator. He lowered it towards the ground, experiencing only a fraction of the wind interference that the grabs had had to contend with.  
  
It was no sooner on the ground before Alan and Neil had Mako, still strapped to his stretcher inside. Alan stepped out again. "You two had better go first. I'll wait with these guys for the second trip."  
  
"Okay." Neil shut the elevator door and sent the signal for the elevator to be lifted out. Scott activated the winch and the car started rising up through the hole.  
  
The winds hadn't completely died down and as the elevator cleared the top of the hole a gust caught it and swung it against the cliff face. Neil was thrown against the wall. Mako let out a groan as he was forced against the straps that held him secure.  
  
Down below Alan and the two D.o.C. Rangers crouched low, protecting their heads from the debris that pelted down onto them. When the shower of rocks subsided they stood up again.  
  
"Hey!" Croft said pointing skywards. "That rock wasn't there before!"  
  
They all looked up. Balanced on the very edge of the cliff was a large boulder about the size of the elevator car that had just left. Clearly it had been knocked loose during the last gust of wind. It would only take another knock and that boulder would come crashing down into the hole. And if that went then chances were it would take a large part of the cliff with it. For the three men trapped inside, there could be no escape.  
  
Alan raised his microphone to his lips. "Calling Thunderbird Two."  
  
Scott was assisting Neil with Mako so it was Virgil who answered his call. "Go ahead Alan."  
  
"That cliff's looking mighty unstable. If the elevator knocks it again it could bring the whole lot down on us. You'll have to winch us up individually."  
  
"Right. I'll get that sorted now."  
  
The winds had died down enough that Virgil felt comfortable leaving Thunderbird Two hovering on autopilot. He descended to the bay that held the winch gear and had it prepared for their first airlift by the time Scott had returned.  
  
"Aren't we using the elevator again?" Scott asked.  
  
"The cliff's too unstable," Virgil told him. "We'll have to lift them out one at a time." They lowered the rescue harness at the end of the cable into the hole.  
  
First Barry, then Croft were lifted out of the confines of the hole, into the open air and then into Thunderbird Two. Finally it was Alan's turn.  
  
"Ready kid?" Scott radioed him.  
  
"F.A.B."  
  
Scott flipped the switch that set the winch in motion. Alan's feet left the ground and he found himself heading skywards. He couldn't help comparing the feeling with being launched in Thunderbird Three.  
  
Barry and Croft were settled in the cabin adjacent to the sick bay, Neil was ensuring that Mako was prepared for the flight to the hospital, satisfied that everything was going according to plan Virgil headed back up to the flight deck. As he sat back into his pilots' seat he glanced at the weather radar. It clearly showed angry clouds heading in their direction at a great velocity. He opened the radio link with the winch room. "Storm's heading this way fast!"  
  
Scott had had no time to digest the meaning of those words when the first storm surge hit. The wind grabbed at the cable that joined was pulling Alan to safety. The cable snapped like a whip against the cliff face. Alan found himself caught up in a mini avalanche of dust and stones. Temporarily blinded and choking on a lung full of dust, he found himself flung about like a rag doll. He was slammed against the cliff and had what little breath he had left knocked out of him. He was dimly aware of the unstable boulder being just above him and the thought flashed through his mind that it might come crashing down onto him at any moment.  
  
Scott hit the intercom to the flight cabin. "Get more height! Fast!"  
  
With the instinctive reaction borne of years of practise, Virgil pushed the throttle forward that sent Thunderbird Two heading upwards.  
  
Alan's out of control legs were swung into the cliff, just below the boulder, knocking more rocks down. Unable to take the weight of the boulder any longer the cliff finally collapsed, just as the recoil from the cable sent Alan swinging away from the cliff. The boulder grazed its way past his legs on its way down to the ground below.  
  
From his vantage point in the underbelly of Thunderbird Two, Scott was helplessly observing the drama as it unfolded. As soon as he was sure that his brother was clear of the hole he sent a message to Virgil to stop the crafts rapid ascent.  
  
Alan was dangling limply at the end of the cable. Scott reactivated the winch and hauled him into Thunderbird Two. As the hatch beneath them closed Scott lowered his brother gently to the floor. "Alan! Can you hear me?"  
  
Alan coughed, dragged in a ragged breath and replied. "'Course I can hear you." He shifted his weight. "Help me out of this harness, it's killing me."  
  
*****  
  
They unloaded Mako, Croft and Barry in the car park of the hospital where the injured man was quickly wheeled into the emergency room. He had regained consciousness during the flight and weakly grabbed at Neil's hand in gratitude. "Kai ora" he managed to gasp.  
  
"Ae. No worries mate." Neil replied. He let go of Mako's hand and stopped trotting alongside the gurney.  
  
As Mako disappeared through the hospital doors the Tracy brothers turned to Neil. "What was that little conversation about?" Virgil asked.   
  
Neil shrugged. "Nothing much. He said 'Thank you'."  
  
Scott laid a hand on his youngest brothers' shoulder. "Are you sure that you don't want to get checked over while you're here? That was quite a battering you took."  
  
Alan shrugged Scotts' hand off. "Nah, I'm fine. Just a few bruises, that's all." He turned and walked stiffly towards the hospital entrance, aware that he would have a pair of multicoloured legs for the next few days.  
  
Scott shrugged and raised his hands to Neil and Virgil in a 'what else can you do' gesture.  
  
As they climbed back into Thunderbird Two, Scott had a thought. "Hey, Alan. What was that rock that jammed the grabs? It must have been pretty tough."  
  
"Dunno. I have it here, hang on..." Alan felt in his pockets, "...here it is." He fished it out. "Seems to be some type of green stone."  
  
"Here, let me see!" Neil took the stone. "You know what you've found mate?" Alan shook his head. "It's a piece of Pounamu, New Zealand Jade. It's tough alright, nearly as hard as diamonds. It's also sacred to the Maori."  
  
"Sacred huh. Guess I'd better leave it here then." Alan took the stone from Neil and gave it to Scott. "Would you mind dropping this off for me when we get back to D.o.C. Headquarters?"  
  
"Yeah, sure" Scott took the stone and examined it. Where the grabs had rubbed against it the surface was shiny. "Bet it would polish up well."  
  
Neil fished around in his own pockets. "Sure does." He pulled out a small flat shape on a length of cord. The intricate carving was a highly polished dark green colour. "I carry it for luck." He explained. "It was a gift from my father shortly before he was killed." A look of sadness flashed briefly across his face to be replaced by his usual smile. "It hasn't failed me yet." 


	26. Diamond in the rough

Diamond in the Rough  
  
Gordon lay unmoving in a crumpled heap on the ground. Blood oozed from a cut in his forehead. His left leg was pinned beneath a large boulder. Above him there was a shout.  
  
"I can see him!"  
  
First Scott, then Neil, Alan and finally Virgil scrambled down the bank. They advanced on their fallen comrade.  
  
"How's secure that rock face?"  
  
"Dunno. Might come down at any moment."  
  
They reached Gordon's side. "Hang on mate. We'll get you fixed up and out of here." Neil was unslinging the First Aid kit from his back. The others busied themselves stabilising the exit route and preparing the stretcher.  
  
"How's he look?" Scott asked.  
  
"Won't know for sure until we get that boulder off him and back to base. After a fall like that he could have all manner of internal injuries." Neil checked Gordon's pulse, blood pressure and then fossiked about in the kit. He pulled out a syringe, fixed the needle to it and then filled it with a clear liquid.  
  
"What do you think you are going to do with that?" Gordon had one eye half open, watching his associates actions.  
  
"You're supposed to be going into shock and this is to prevent it. Don't worry, it's only a weak saline solution. It won't hurt."  
  
"Won't hurt, huh!" Gordon had both eyes open now. "I get enough needles against legitimate diseases, you're not going to stick that into me now!"  
  
"Aw c'mon Gordon, this won't hurt a bit. I need the practise."  
  
Gordon had now raised himself onto his elbows. "You might need the practise. I don't!" He kicked the fibreglass boulder off his leg and stood up. "You can get some other dummy to practise on." He stood up, grabbed a bit of cotton wool from the First Aid kit and wiped off some of the fake blood from where it was running into his eye.  
  
Seated in his office, Jeff was watching the action on a monitor. From here he could observe his operatives movements without impeding their actions. It had been a long day and clearly they were all tired. He would want them to be fully alert if a real call out occurred. He flicked a switch. "Okay boys. Let's call it a day."  
  
Back at the 'accident scene' his voice appeared to come from nowhere, although they all knew that it was being transmitted via a tiny robot that buzzed about them like a fly. They started clearing up. Gordon grabbed the boulder, raised it to his shoulder, Atlas like, and headed for home, still grumbling to himself. No way was anyone going to stick any needles into him!  
  
Neil was met by Jeff as he was heading to the stores to restock the First Aid kit. "How're you finding it Neil?"  
  
"Great Mr Tracy. All this training can get a bit hard at times, especially when your victim won't lie around and take his medicine, but I'm enjoying the challenge."  
  
"Glad to hear it. We really appreciate the work you're putting into our team. Brains is still working on his mannequins, but he tells me that when he's finished you won't be able to tell it from a real person. Except that you will be able to stick as many things into it as you want, and it won't complain."  
  
Neil laughed. "Sounds ideal."  
  
Jeff looked at his watch. "Dinner won't be ready for another hour, so you're free to do what you want till then."  
  
"Thanks Mr Tracy. I might catch up on some reading."  
  
Neil headed back to his room, showered and changed and then sat down on his bed. He looked around the room and sighed in contentment. He'd made a few changes to it, added some photos and posters and hung up his certificates, just a few touches to make it feel like home. His favourite picture was a photo that he'd taken on a trip in Thunderbird Three. It was a small portion of the earth and on that cloudless day he'd been able to see both New Zealand and Tracy Island. He'd snapped the photo hurriedly not expecting it to turn out. That one photo encapsulated the two places where he'd felt the happiest. His old home, and his new one.  
  
And it did feel like home, he reflected. He was enjoying a brotherly relationship with the Tracy boys, and Jeff, while he couldn't replace Neil's own father, was beginning to take on the attitude of a benevolent Uncle. The others all treated him as part of the family, and for the first time, since his parents had died, he felt that he finally belonged somewhere. Propping up the pillows so that he could sit back comfortably, he looked out the window. The Pacific Ocean was blue today, highlighted by the sun glinting off the tips of the smallest ripples. Another perfect day. Just like the one in the photograph...  
  
...The klaxon that reverberated around the building was not the one that called them to dinner, but the one that alerted them that someone, somewhere in the world needed their help. Neil leapt off his bed and was the first one into the lounge.  
  
John's eyes were still flashing in time to the beeps. Jeff activated the two-way communication with his son.  
  
"I've had a call from the police in London, England. There's been an explosion in the 'Diamond' hotel complex." John paused. "They think it sounds like it was a bomb."  
  
A knot of anger formed in Jeff's stomach. He could handle being involved in rescues caused by accidental causes, but when one human being deliberately sought to harm another... He ignored the anger and continued to get information. "How many people involved?"  
  
"They don't know exactly. Apparently there's going to be some kind of charity gala held there today. Champagne breakfast, a show, that kind of thing. The guests were still in their rooms, but staff were setting up and the actors were having a final rehearsal. The police are trying to get hold of the contractors and hotel managers to work out how many people could be inside."  
  
"Have we got a rough estimate?"  
  
"Could be as many as 500."  
  
500! It was going to a big rescue. They will need all their speed and skill to ensure that the trapped victims were rescued alive.   
  
"Scott! Get going! Take Tin-Tin with you! She can man Mobile Control - you'll be needed elsewhere."  
  
"Yessir!" Scott grasped the two light fittings and rotated out of the room. Tin-tin followed him by the same route.  
  
"John! Any chance anyone could be trapped in the basement?"  
  
"Negative. They were able to check it out."  
  
"No need for the 'Mole' then. Virgil! Take Pod Two. The rest of you go had better go with him."  
  
The sun was still glinting off the Pacific Ocean as the cliff face folded back. As Thunderbird Two rumbled out onto its runway and the palm trees tilted back, Neil strained against his safety belt to see the house. He could just make out Jeff's figure on the balcony. The figure was joined by another, obviously Grandma Tracy. As the great plane tilted up towards the sky he settled back into his seat.  
  
They were all silent as Thunderbird Two launched itself into the air; each engrossed in their own thoughts. What would they find when they got there, how long would it take, had anyone been badly hurt - or killed?  
  
"Bother!"  
  
The others looked at Neil who was fishing about in his pockets.  
  
"What's up?" Gordon queried.  
  
"I forgot my Pounamu Pendant. I showed it to Brains and then put it on my bedside table. I was going to put it into my uniform, but just forgot about it. Oh well..." he settled back into his seat. "...it's just a bit of superstition anyway."  
  
The white fluffy clouds looked trouble free and peaceful. Unviolated by human actions...  
  
*****  
  
...London was in the midst of chaos. Scott did a sweep of the bomb site in Thunderbird One before touching down.  
  
By his side Tin-Tin surveyed the scene. "Scott, how awful. Do you think there will be many survivors?"  
  
"I don't know honey. We'll just have to work the hardest we ever have to ensure that there are." He cut the engines. "We're here." He said unnecessarily, his mind already concentrating on the task ahead. "Do you want me to go over anything more with you?"  
  
Tin-Tin shook her head, her pretty face a mask of concern for those trapped. "No. I'll be fine."  
  
"Good." Scott stood up, itching to get started, but aware that he was limited with what he could do until Thunderbird Two arrived. "We'll get Mobile Control set up and then we can decide on a course of action." Together they readied the communications console for its upcoming duties.  
  
Outside the people of London awaited International Rescue's assistance. 


	27. London 1

London 1  
  
Scott and Tin-Tin were waiting when Thunderbird Two touched down and disgorged its occupants.   
  
"We've good news, of sorts." Scott informed them. "Turns out there's not as many people involved as first feared. The new estimate puts it at closer to 100."  
  
"How come?" Gordon asked.  
  
"Traffic jams, rail stoppages, overslept. All sorts of reasons. The hotel guests rooms were on the far side of the building. As the show wasn't due to start until 9.00 am they weren't any hurry to get to the restaurant. The police are trying to get a final figure so we know how many to look for.  
  
"The plan is this. Virg. and I will check the outside for survivors. The rest of you can get the TBM33 set up. Once we're sure the coast is clear we'll use the TBM33 to enable us to enter the building. Virgil and I will search, Gordon and Alan will transport patients and Neil will monitor the TBM33. Tin-Tin will maintain the link between each of us, the rescue authorities and base. Any questions?"  
  
There were none.  
  
"Okay." Scott took a deep breath. "Let's get started."  
  
The bomb had gone off in the northernmost corner of the building, just inside the entrance. Originally three stories high, the top two stories had pancaked onto the one below.   
  
The main body of the building had been a restaurant/theatre complex. The tables had been set for breakfast and the stage was prepared for the live entertainment, when the bomb went off. They knew now that waiters, actors, chefs and stagehands were all trapped inside. To the south the attached hotel had been evacuated. The once proud façade was now battered and broken by the force of the blast. Glass in broken windows periodically gave way, a lethal waterfall onto the devastation below.  
  
Scott and Virgil moved towards the wreckage of the building. Part of the roof had slid off its' trusses and had partly covered the doorway. The northern wall was standing at a crazy angle. Bricks and mortar were laying all around, a gaping hole in the corner of the building showed where the bomb had gone off.  
  
All of a sudden Virgil stopped in his tracks, a cold sweat appeared on his forehead.  
  
Scott came to a halt beside him and looked at him in concern. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't know... Nothing I guess. I've just got a feeling."  
  
"What kind of feeling."  
  
Virgil was feeling slightly foolish. "This is silly Scott."  
  
"Tell me."  
  
"Well I just feel that something bad's going to happen."  
  
Scott peered closely at his brother. There was no hint of any jocularity in Virgil's handsome features. In fact he looked quite pale. And Virgil was not the sort to play practical jokes at a time like this. "Something bad? What?"  
  
"I don't know. Oh just ignore it, Scott. We've got a job to do."  
  
At that moment Neil came running over. "Hey guys, what's the hold up?"  
  
"Nothing." Scott told him. He looked at Virgil again and made a decision. "Neil!"  
  
"Yes Scott."  
  
"Get into your rescue gear. You're coming with me and Virgil will stay out here."  
  
"Yessir!" Neil gave a half salute and was away running.  
  
Scott's eyes followed Neil until he was out of earshot and then turned back to Virgil. "Feel better now?"  
  
Virgil hesitated. "Yes and no. Now I feel guilty."  
  
"Don't. It will give Neil some experience and I have a feeling that we'll need your expertise out here."  
  
Gordon came trotting over. "Hey, what's up? Neil just told me that he's going in instead of Virgil. Why?"  
  
Scott shrugged. "I just thought that Neil needs the experience."  
  
Neil came running back at full speed. He stood in front of the Tracy Brothers panting slightly. "Ready when you are."  
  
Scott had one last look at Virgil, whose face still held a frown. "Right let's go." he stated firmly.  
  
As they watched them climb onto the roof of the building Gordon turned to Virgil. "What's happening? Scott wouldn't change plans at the last moment without good reason."  
  
Although a deep-seated worry still continued to gnaw at him Virgil pulled himself together. "I guess he had his reasons. Come on, we've got work to do too."  
  
*****  
  
Scott and Neil took their time clambering over what remained of the roof of the building, checking every crevice for any sign of life. In the end they had to admit defeat.   
  
"Guess everyone was trapped inside." Neil said.  
  
"Well that's just where we're going to have to go." Scott told him.  
  
They rejoined the rest of the team beside four pylons, still laying on their sides, that had been unloaded and assembled from Thunderbird Two. "No sign of life up there," Scott informed the others. "We're going to have to enter the building and do a thorough search. Is the TBM33 ready to go Brains?"  
  
"Y-Yes." We've ch-checked and rechecked the system."  
  
"Great," Scott turned to Virgil. "You and Gordon want to do the honours?"  
  
"On our way." Virgil and Gordon jogged over to where Thunderbird Two squatted in the car park. The others stood by and waited.  
  
A roar of jets told them that Thunderbird Two had lifted off and the giant green transport plane swung into view from behind some buildings. Looking as ungainly as a bumblebee in flight it hovered over the demolished hotel. It's undercarriage then emitted a stream of liquid that coated the surface of the building, where the roof had once been. This was TBM33, one of Brains' secret inventions, a kind of glue that bonded to the topmost surface of the ruined building, joining the shattered pieces together.   
  
Once a complete seal had been obtained Virgil manoeuvred Thunderbird Two so that it hovered over the pylons. Inside Thunderbird Two Gordon activated the machinery that lowered four strong hawsers. Working together Scott, Alan, Neil and Brains attached the hawsers to one end of one of the pylons. When they had finished they stood clear.  
  
Scott spoke into his microphone. "Lift away!"  
  
Virgil activated the vertical jets and Thunderbird Two rose higher into the air, raising one end of the pylon with it. Eventually the metal structure was hovering in the air. Virgil flew the plane so that the pylon was in line with the corner of the building. Reducing its height caused the broad end of the pylon to make contact with the ground. Gordon triggered a button and stakes were fired into the ground, anchoring the pylon in an upright position. Using a video camera attached to the pylon Gordon was then able to fire a miniature canon that sent another 2 hawsers flying from the pylon and into the ground at right angles to the sides of the building. While he was doing this Virgil returned Thunderbird Two to its original position above the prone pylons.  
  
They repeated this procedure three more times. Pylons number two and three slipped into position easily but pylon four had to be positioned with more care.  
  
Thunderbird Two hovered above the building, it's wingtip dangerously close to the top of the hotel at the side. "I can't get down any lower, Gordon" Virgil said. "You're going to have to do the best you can."  
  
"Can't you move further south?"  
  
"Negative. There are other buildings in the way."  
  
Gordon managed to lower the pylon into position, but although the stakes secured the pylon upright he was only able to secure one of the stabilising hawsers. He joined Virgil in the cockpit.  
  
"All set?" Virgil asked.  
  
"Well..." Gordon was unsure. "Pylon number four isn't braced as well as I would like. The one hawser I managed to secure is not set at the optimum angle. We'll just have to hope it holds."  
  
By the time Thunderbird Two had landed and Virgil and Gordon had rejoined the rest of the team, the TBM33 was a solid plane, having permeated the top metre of the roof's rubble. Virgil took command of the control module that they had set up beside Mobile Control as the rest finished their preparations. Powerful computers connected to video cameras calculated the correct placement of eight more hawsers that went sailing out of the pylons and embedded themselves into the top layer of the building. Keeping a watchful eye on the instrumentation before him, especially pylon four, Virgil activated the winch mechanism that retracted the eight hawsers in the TBM33. Slowly the roof started to rise from where it had fallen barely an hour before.  
  
Virgil had been so intent on this procedure that he started when he became aware of Scott standing at his shoulder. 'Boy I'm jumpy' he thought.  
  
Scott glanced at the console, "All okay?"  
  
Virgil double-checked the readouts. "FAB!" 


	28. London 2

London 2  
  
Lady Penelope had been invited to the gala, but rather than spend the night at the Diamond Hotel, she had decided to stay at a friend's house. "So much more convivial."  
  
She had risen at 7.00 am and at 7.50 she and Parker and the shocking pink Rolls Royce had nosed their way out of the driveway.  
  
She patted a yawn. "I can't get used to getting up at this time and not having breakfast. I'm not awake until I've had my morning cup of tea."  
  
"H'I anticipated that, M'lady." Parker gently steered the big car around a corner. "H'I've taken the liberty of concealing a thermos of hot tea h'in the cocktail cabinet."  
  
"Parker, you think of everything." She gently pressed a button and a panel in the back of the drivers seat slid open. In it was a variety of drinks and glasses. Tucked in the corner was a vacuum flask and a china cup and saucer. She poured herself a drink and settled back in the cushions. "What is the time..." she glanced at her elegant gold watch. "Dear me, 8 o-clock, we're missing the news. Parker switch on the radio, please."   
  
The authoritative tones of a radio news anchor man drifted out of the state of the art speakers. "...Diamond Hotel. The hotel was to be the venue of a Charity Gala, raising money for the International Red Cross. Initially there were fears that as many as 500 people were trapped, but that number has been revised down to 63. International Rescue is on the scene. We will update you as more information comes to hand. In other news..."  
  
Parker turned off the radio. "Guess breakfast is out of the question, M'lady."  
  
"Indeed Parker. But we don't know why. The gentleman said that International Rescue was on hand. Perhaps Scott would have time to fill in the details. We may be able to help." She activated the radio link "Lady Penelope calling Mobile Control." Tin-Tin's face appeared on screen. "Why hello Tin-Tin!"  
  
Tin-Tin smiled. "Hello Lady Penelope. You've heard the news."  
  
"Not really. We were on our way to the Gala ourselves when we heard the tail end of the broadcast. We thought we might be able to help"  
  
Tin-Tin explained what they knew. "We were worried that there were more trapped, but the fates are being kind today. There's been a rail strike, which has prevented a lot of workers coming in. There was also a traffic jam on the main roads into London and one group was travelling together and got lost." She gave a bitter smile. "It would be funny if it wasn't so tragic."  
  
"H'It must be a big rescue." Parker commented.  
  
"Yes," Tin-Tin agreed. "That's why I'm doing this job. Scott's joined the search party."  
  
"Is there any idea who set the bomb?" Lady Penelope wanted to know.  
  
"No. Naturally the place is swarming with police and security people, looking for clues. Apparently some quite important people, apart from yourselves, were going to attend. This security lapse has got quite a few people worried.   
  
"What they really want to get at is the bomb, to see what information they can get from that, but they can't reach it until we've done our bit." She gave a short laugh, "At least we don't have to worry about security for the Thunderbird's."  
  
"Is there anything we can do?"  
  
"I don't think so, Lady Penelope. At least not at the moment, and not without risking your cover. We'll let you know if we hear of anything you can help us with, or if we hear of any clues."  
  
"Thank you Tin-Tin. Give the boys our best."  
  
Tin-Tin's face vanished from the screen. Lady Penelope gazed out at the scenery flashing by. Parker glanced at her in the mirror. "Thinkin' about 'ow we can 'elp, M'lady?"  
  
"Yes Parker. As Tin-Tin said, we don't want to risk breaking our cover. But by the same token we can't let such an event go without at least making an effort. We will continue on to the scene of the explosion and decide what to do next then."  
  
"Yes, M'lady."  
  
*****  
  
Scott and Neil entered the building.  
  
Neil took in the destruction. "What a mess!"  
  
"Yeah and somewhere in that mess are people who needs rescuing. Come on."  
  
They gingerly started to clear an access route. As they got further into the building they began to realise that the damage wasn't as bad as was first thought. The basic structure was still pretty much intact. Scott radioed this information back to Virgil.  
  
"Great!" Scott could hear the relief in Virgil's voice. "We're launching the life detectors now, and we'll give you a bearing shortly."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
And so the rescue effort got underway in earnest.  
  
*****  
  
Some hours later they stopped to replenish their supplies, get their bearings, and boost their energy levels. Scott had reported to base and had downed one drink and was about to start another when Virgil pulled him to one side.  
  
"Let me go in instead of one of you guys. You've all had it."  
  
Scott took a sip of his drink. "Do you still have that 'feeling'?"  
  
Virgil straightened up. "No!"  
  
Scott looked at him levelly. He was willing to admit that he was tired and drained, but he was still observant. "You never could lie convincingly, brother. You're staying out here..."  
  
"But Scott..."  
  
"But nothing. If you want to know the truth, I've got a bad feeling about this too, and I'd be happier knowing that your clear head is out here should anything go wrong." Virgil opened his mouth to protest again. "I'm not taking any arguments. You're staying out here! And that's an order!" He turned to walk back towards the rest of the group and then checked himself. "And this is another order!" He softened his tone, "if anything should happen - to me - you're to take charge. Okay?"  
  
Virgil nodded mutely.  
  
The other men in the group were watching the exchange surreptitiously as they refilled their rescue kits.  
  
"What do you s'ppose is going on?" Alan asked.  
  
"Don't know," Gordon responded, "it's not like Virg. to be 'on the front line', and why did Scott pull him out at the last minute?" He turned to Neil, "did they say anything to you?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"V-Virgil seems to have been in a l-less than even temper." Brain ventured  
  
"That's unusual." Neil said. "I haven't seen him lose his temper once in the time I've known you guys. And I would say that there's been times when he's had ample reason to lose his rag."  
  
"Shush," Alan raised a warning hand. "Here comes Scott."  
  
Scott rejoined Neil and the others without comment. Virgil headed back to his station and scanned his instruments for any sign of weakness with any of the pylons - all seemed normal. He stabbed angrily at a button.  
  
Tin-Tin had observed what had appeared, for them, to be a rather heated argument between the two brothers. She couldn't understand why Virgil hadn't been taking a more active part in the rescue but decided that there must be a good reason. Scott was heading back towards the demolished building and Virgil was frowning at his console.   
  
"Virgil?"  
  
"Mmm?" He was engrossed in his instruments.  
  
"Is something wrong?  
  
He looked up. "Wrong?"  
  
"You just seemed to be angry at Scott."  
  
"Angry at Scott!" Virgil seemed surprised, "No way!" He frowned again. The others must be wondering why he hadn't been helping out more. Tin-Tin with her Eastern background would at least understand where he was coming from. He gave her a quick run down of what had happened. "I know it seems silly..."  
  
"No it doesn't"  
  
"... but Scott said he wanted me fresh in case something does go wrong. In the meantime I've got to stand by and let the others do the work! If I'm angry at anyone it's me, for letting my imagination run riot."  
  
"And you still have this feeling that something's going to happen?" Tin-Tin asked.  
  
"Yeah, if anything it's getting stronger." He flashed her a quick smile, "Don't worry about it, just call it male intuition." He returned his concentration back to his work.   
  
Tin-Tin turned back to Mobile Control. She didn't want to say anything to Virgil but she'd had a bad feeling about this rescue too. She'd put it down to a lack of on the job experience, but if an experienced campaigner was experiencing doubts too... A cold shiver ran down her spine.  
  
***** 


	29. London 3

London 3  
  
The London shadows lengthened as the day crawled on.   
  
Neil and Scott, working deep amongst the debris, located the living - and the dead.   
  
Alan and Gordon acted as stretcher bearers, bringing the survivors out into the fresh air, and when they had the time - releasing the dead as well.   
  
Tin-Tin sat at Mobile Control, maintaining a link between those at work and those on Thunderbird Five and back at Tracy Island.  
  
Brains poured over blueprints and made suggestions of ways to improve their search, and devised a more efficient form of TBM33.  
  
Virgil cooled his heels monitoring the stresses and strains exerted by the suspension wires and their supporting cables, making minute adjustments when needed - and cursed his own foolishness.  
  
And still the threatening shadows grew in size.  
  
Scott and Neil picked their way gingerly through the rubble, aware that at any moment they could dislodge a beam or strut and the whole structure could come tumbling down onto them. They had rescued nearly everyone who was reported to be in the building and were doing a final sweep of the area. Miraculously there had been little loss of life although some were in a critical condition.  
  
Neil hesitated, swinging the receiver in his hands in a shallow arc, trying to pick up signs of life. He froze when the pulsating light changed from red to green. "There's someone over here! And he's alive!" He and Scott pushed forward in the direction indicated.  
  
"Thank heavens for that. Then we can clear out of here."  
  
Their target was lying in the debris, trapped by a fallen beam. His eyes lit up when he saw his rescuers. "At last! I was beginning to think that no one would find me."  
  
Working together Scott and Neil jacked up the beam and slid the man out from underneath. Neil gave him a quick examination. "Do you feel any pain?"  
  
The man nodded his head. "Yeah. That leg's hurting pretty bad." He sucked in his breath and bit on his lip as Neil removed the cloth sticking to the blood that was congealing on his skin.  
  
Neil gently probed the wound and then prepared to cover it with clean bandages. "We'll get this fixed up and then we'll see about getting you out" he said. He looked up when Scott tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"This guy should be the last, but I'm going to have a quick check that there's no one else trapped."   
  
Neil nodded his head in affirmation. "Rightio mate. Give me a yell if you need a hand."  
  
*****  
  
Seated at Mobile Control Tin-Tin watched the screens, monitoring her colleagues progress, noting Scott's icon moving away from Neil's. She stiffened when a new image appeared on the monitor in front of her. She slammed the communications switch to open. "Scott! Neil! There's another bomb."  
  
Inside the building Scott swiftly responded. "What? Where?"  
  
"To your west." Tin-Tin was shouting now. "Get out of there now..."  
  
She had no sooner finished the statement when she was engulfed by the force of the bomb.  
  
A tidal wave of dust and debris spewed out from the epicentre of the explosion. A fireball forced its way into the sky. Smoke and dust filled the air making it difficult to breath and impossible to see.   
  
Already weaker than the others, pylon four couldn't take the extra strain. It teetered, held its ground for a moment and then collapsed onto the remains of the demolished building.   
  
People ran in a panic colliding into obstacles and each other, blinded by the rolling waves of dust. Alan, running in the direction of Mobile Control tripped over something in his path. It was Gordon, a cut on his head causing a trickle of blood to run down the side of his face.  
  
Alan knelt by his brother. "Gordon! Are you all right?"  
  
Gordon sat up and gingerly fingered his sore head; his fingers came away coated in blood. "Yeah, I'm all right. I hit the deck when the bomb went off and banged it on the ground. I'll live."  
  
Alan helped him to his feet and together they ran to the Mobile Control. Brains was already there.  
  
Virgil picked himself up from where he'd crouched behind Mobile Control. His mouth went dry when he saw the devastation. It looked like all his worst fears had come true. Scott's words came back to him. "If anything should happen - to me - you're to take charge." He took a deep breath and marshalled his thoughts into a plan of action.  
  
Lady Penelope and Parker had taken advantage of the confusion to join the rest of the International Rescue team. Tin-Tin was desperately trying to raise Scott and Neil on their intercoms and the others were trying to find an explanation as to why their sensitive instruments hadn't detected the bomb earlier.  
  
"It could have b-been started by s-some kind of remote." Brains theorised.  
  
Virgil started getting back into his overalls in preparation for rescuing his colleagues. "With some kind of radio signal? But whoever set it off would have to be within close range."  
  
"Which means they could be escaping now." Lady Penelope said grimly. "Parker, we have some work to do."  
  
"Yeah," Parker growled. "And now it's personal."  
  
As they turned to leave Virgil grabbed Parker's arm. "Don't do anything rash. We want justice not revenge." He turned back to Tin-Tin. "Any luck?"  
  
Tin-Tin shook her head sorrowfully. "No Virgil."  
  
Virgil looked at the remains of the building that entombed his brother and his friend. A fine haze of dust hung over the scene and the sun shining through gave the bomb-site an ethereal glow. He turned his back on the scene to outline the plan of action. Scott had said that he was to be in charge and as he'd been involved in more rescues than any of the others, no one was about to challenge his authority. "Tin-Tin keep trying. Let us know the instant you get a response. Don't radio base yet. No need to worry them unnecessarily. Brains you stay here, if anything else goes wrong you and Tin-Tin will have to direct the rescue authorities. Alan, we'd better get started. Gordon...you stay here." He was about to turn away when Gordon stopped him.  
  
"No way I'm staying back here. Don't forget they're special to me too."  
  
Virgil looked at his brother. "Okay" he relented. "Get Tin-Tin to clean and dress that wound. When that's done you can join us."  
  
As Alan moved towards the disaster area a quiet voice stopped him.  
  
"Alan."  
  
He turned. "Yes, Tin-Tin"  
  
"Be careful."  
  
He could see tears in her eyes and he tried to put a brave face on it. "You bet. You know I'm always the one who has to rescue these guys." He turned on his heel and ran to catch up to Virgil. They climbed the few metres to the top of what remained of the building. They stopped to decide on their route.  
  
The top of the building reminded Virgil of glacial ice that had cracked under the force of the pressures from the mountain above it. Only this was no slow landscape that had taken form over decades. This had happened suddenly and violently.   
  
The TBM33 had held the roof together in parts but they could clearly see where the second bomb had gone off. It had lifted the roof into the air as the explosion had forced its way free and then slammed it back into the ground.   
  
The fallen pylon lay almost exactly where they estimated Scott and Neil's last position to be, a mass of metal mixed with concrete and wood. Even the TBM33 had been pulverised at this point.  
  
They started to work to Scott and Neil's last reference points when Alan found himself saying something he thought he'd never say.  
  
"Virg. I'm scared."  
  
Virgil looked at him and could see the fear in his youngest brother's eyes. "Yeah." He acknowledged. "Me too."  
  
They started making their way through the rubble, their victim locators shining red. 


	30. Manhunt 1

Manhunt 1  
  
In FAB 1 Lady Penelope and Parker began to realise the enormity of their task. They had no clues to go on. They tuned into the police wavelength to see if the authorities had any idea. It seemed that no one had been seen acting suspiciously or running from the scene.  
  
Parker slammed his hand onto the steering wheel in frustration. "What do we do now, M'Lady?  
  
Lady Penelope was looking over his shoulder at an individual who seemed calmer than the rest of the public, a mocking grin on his face. As she watched he pocketed what appeared to be a small radio and retrieved an envelope. Looking around he spied a letterbox, calmly posted the letter and sauntered over to his car.  
  
"Lady Luck, may be on our side Parker. See that, er, gentleman getting into that van to your right?"  
  
"Looks a shady sort."  
  
"He seems rather assured of his safety. I think it would be wise if we were to have a word with him."  
  
"Right you are M'Lady." The pink Roll Royce purred into life in pursuit of the grey van.  
  
Lady Penelope opened the communications hatch. "Lady Penelope calling Mobile Control."  
  
Tin-Tin's face appeared on the video screen. "Yes Lady Penelope?"  
  
"Any news?"  
  
Tin-Tin's face saddened as she shook her head. "No, nothing yet."  
  
Lady Penelope tried to sound reassuring. "Don't give up Tin-Tin. No news is good news they say." Tin-Tin nodded in agreement, but Lady Penelope could see in her eyes that she didn't hold out much hope. "Tell me is there anyone from the security services nearby?"  
  
Tin-Tin frowned in thought. "There's a Colonel Banks..."  
  
Lady Penelope leaned forward eagerly. "Is that Colonel Ralph Banks?  
  
"I don't know... Just a moment. Yes I think I do remember someone calling him Ralph."  
  
Lady Penelope smiled. "Could you put Colonel Banks onto the line, Tin-Tin? No need to say that you know me. I'm just a concerned citizen who thinks she has some information that might help, who happened to call International Rescue."  
  
Tin-Tin's video image disappeared for a few minutes to be replaced by that of a distinguished looking man with a large handlebar moustache.  
  
"Well bless my soul! Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward! When the young lady told me there was someone with some information, I would never have dreamed it was you."  
  
"Ralph, my dear boy, what a surprise!" Lady Penelope lied. "I wouldn't have thought that you would be part of International Rescue!"  
  
Ralph Banks chuckled. "Afraid not old girl. I'm still part of the old, er, establishment. Anyway, why are you calling? The International Rescue lass said you thought you had some information."  
  
"Well Ralph, I was on my way to the Gala when I held about the first explosion. Of course I had to see what had happened. We arrived just in time to witness the second explosion. While we were waiting I happened to see a young man calmly hide what looked like a remote control device, post a letter and then drive away and..."  
  
"And your suspicions were aroused." Colonel Banks cut in. "You always had a nose for finding troublemakers. Can't think why you left the business. You're in pursuit of course."  
  
"Of course. He's heading south."  
  
"You still driving round in that shocking pink Rolls Royce of yours."  
  
"Of course Ralph. You know I never go anywhere without my comforts. If you send some backup tell them my new number plate, FAB1. I grew so tired of the old one."  
  
"Thanks old girl. I'll give them that info. In case they're colour-blind." He signed off after Lady Penelope had given him further details about their quarry and turned to Tin-Tin. "FAB1. I wonder why she's got that number. I never could understand that woman." Tin-Tin just smiled sweetly.  
  
***** 


	31. Manhunt 2

Manhunt 2  
  
On the bombsite the three Tracy brothers were feeling more despondent with every passing moment. As they picked their way over the wreckage their victim locators continued to shine red. Virgil stopped to get his bearings and check on the others progress. He swept the locator in an arc and the red light flickered!  
  
He retraced the arc at a slower speed and the red light dimmed and changed to green. He let out a shout. "I've found something." He started ripping away the debris with his bare hands.  
  
His reply was a cry from Gordon. "Me too, over here!"  
  
Alan continued to check the area with his locator but the only changes to the display were in the same areas as where his brothers were frantically digging. 'We're looking for three people,' he thought, 'but we're only registering two alive...' His thought's were broken by a shout from Virgil.  
  
"Alan! I need a hand to shift this beam!"  
  
That task was completed and Alan was summoned back to help Gordon move a particularly obstinate chunk of concrete.  
  
Virgil paused in his efforts. He could hear something. It sounded like a voice. Was it his imagination or did it sound like Scott's? He doubled his efforts but it seemed like an age before he reached his goal. It was a boot with pale blue trim. Reassuringly it moved. Without breaking his stride he yelled out to the others. "I've found Scott. He's alive."  
  
Without stopping Alan and Gordon allowed each other a brief smile of relief. They had found no sign of life, although the locator beacon was still glowing green.  
  
Virgil pushed aside the last bit of rubble, Scott dazzled by the sudden glare of the sun, squinted up at him. "Took you long enough."  
  
Virgil grinned. Looked like big brother was going to be okay. "You hurt?"  
  
Scott slowly sat up, easing muscles that had been confined for too long. "No, I don't think so. Nothing really hit me."  
  
Virgil assisted his brother to his feet. "So you weren't knocked out at all?"  
  
Scott shook his head. "No." A look of concern came over his face. "Where's Neil."  
  
Virgil's grin disappeared. "Gordon and Alan are looking for him now. Why don't you go and rest."  
  
"Nothin' doin'. I've been lying there resting for the last half hour, I'm going to help!"  
  
Virgil patted him on the back. "How about radioing Mobile Control first and letting Tin-Tin and Brains know you're all right."  
  
Tin-Tin nearly cried with relief when she heard Scott's voice. "Scott, you're okay?"  
  
"Sure am honey. Just a bit dusty that's all. I'm going to give the others a hand"  
  
"FAB Scott." She turned to Brains. "Isn't that wonderful news?"  
  
"Y-yes it is, Tin-Tin." Brains' enthusiasm was tempered by the fact that they still had no word on Neil. "D-do you think you should t-tell Lady Penelope."  
  
Tin-Tin agreed. "You're right. She should know."  
  
Lady Penelope and Parker, still tailing their suspect, were both delighted at the news. As Parker put it "Should 'ave known Mister Scott was too tough to let ha bomb stop 'im."  
  
*****  
  
Although all four of them were working feverishly the pile of debris didn't seem to be getting any smaller.  
  
Alan threw a lump of concrete onto the waste pile. "We must be getting close."  
  
Gordon paused. "Shush."  
  
Scott knelt beside him. "What is it?"  
  
"I thought I heard something. Listen! There it is again."  
  
Virgil crouched down too. "Yeah I heard something too. We're on the right track." They resumed their efforts.  
  
A couple of boards were discarded and a voice, clearer now, was heard again.  
  
"Help! Is anyone there? Help me!"  
  
"We've got to move this plank! Alan, grab the other end..." Virgil took a good grip on his side. "Right, one, two, three, heave!" Together they moved the wood away from its resting-place.  
  
An arm lay exposed. Its silver overall tattered, revealing a blue sleeve underneath.  
  
Scott knelt down and checked for a pulse. He looked back at his brothers and shook his head.  
  
For a moment they stood there stunned, unable to move until a voice galvanised them into action again. "Help me, will someone help me?"  
  
They cleared the rest of the debris away and gently lifted Neil's lifeless body clear. It was obvious to them all that he had had no chance of survival. Still deeper in the rubble they found the last survivor.  
  
"You've saved me, you've saved me." The man was babbling. "I was sure we were going to die. That man from International Rescue, he saved my life, threw himself on me to protect me."  
  
As Scott radioed Tin-Tin for a stretcher and paramedic team the man grabbed Gordon's arm. "He saved my life! You realise that don't you! I want to thank him. I can't see him. You'll thank him for me won't you."  
  
"Yeah," Gordon mumbled, "yeah we'll tell him."  
  
Two paramedics, carrying a stretcher between them, arrived. One of them stopped to check on Neil. "He didn't have a hope." He noticed the uniform. "He was one of your team wasn't he?"  
  
"Yeah." Scott rubbed his hand wearily over his face. It felt gritty. "Yeah, he was one of the team."  
  
Virgil looked at Scott in concern. "You look all in. Why don't you go have a rest? We'll take care of... things."  
  
"I'll have to let base know first."  
  
"That can wait." Gordon was standing at Scott's side now. "We haven't told them that anything was wrong."  
  
"You haven't told them..." Scott was incredulous.  
  
"It was my decision." Virgil told him. "I didn't want to worry them unnecessarily. So I'll make the call."  
  
Scott shook his head. "It's my job to communicate with base, so I'll make the call. I'll tell Brains and Tin-Tin first and then I'll go clean up. Once that's done I'll radio home."  
  
Brains and Tin-Tin saw Scott approach Mobile Control and ran over to meet him. Tin-Tin gave him a big hug. "I'm so glad you're okay!" she said. "Any word on Neil?"  
  
Scott nodded. There was no easy way to say this. "He didn't make it."  
  
They were astounded. "Y-You m-mean he's..." Brains couldn't finish his sentence.  
  
"When the bomb went off he threw himself on the other guy to protect him and took most of the blast. The paramedics are bringing the injured man down now."  
  
Tin-Tin frowned. "John's been trying to find out what's going on. I've told him that things are taking longer than expected. Shall I go and tell him what's happened."  
  
"No. If he calls back tell him I'll give him a rundown shortly. I'm going to go and get cleaned up and then I'll radio home and tell them. In the meantime," he said aware of a need to keep them occupied. "You can shift Mobile Control back into Thunderbird One, I can make the call from there. There's not much point hanging around here any longer than is necessary." He turned and walked towards Thunderbird Two. Once inside he made his way through to the changing room and collapsed into a seat. 


	32. Manhunt 3

Manhunt 3  
  
Their quarry was aware that he was being pursued. At times he would speed up to try and lose them. Then he would slow down so they could catch up.  
  
"'E's playin' with us M'Lady."  
  
"Yes Parker, that does seem to be the case. I wonder how he will react when the authorities arrive."  
  
"'Ang about. 'e's stoppin'!"  
  
It was a deserted stretch of road. Stretching straight as a die for about a mile on either side. Any other vehicles approaching would be easily seen before they got even close.   
  
Parker brought FAB1 to a stand still ten metres behind the van.  
  
"What do we do now, M'Lady?"  
  
"Wait and see what he does, Parker."  
  
As they sat in the car for what seemed to be an eternity, they relayed their exact co-ordinates to Ralph Banks.  
  
"Can you keep him covered, Lady Penelope. We're stuck in rush hour traffic, can't move forward or back!"  
  
And still they waited.  
  
The drivers door to the van swung open and a jean clad leg emerged.  
  
"Swipe me. 'E's getting' out."  
  
"That does appear to be the case Parker."  
  
"D'you think we should meet him half way?"  
  
"Not until we are sure he's unarmed." Lady Penelope sent a message to Colonel Banks. "Ralph, I'm going to send you a video of the suspect."  
  
The man sauntered past the bonnet of FAB1, unaware that the flying lady hood ornament was tracking his progress, a tiny video camera recording his every move. Smiling sardonically he leant on the roof and peered into the car. "Nice day for a drive in the country." He said.  
  
Lady Penelope smiled at him as she slipped a diamond-studded clip into her hair. "You are so right."  
  
"Good to get away from the dust and dirt of the city and into the fresh country air." The man continued conversationally.  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"Of course, as you know, London is much dirtier and dustier today, since I set off those two bombs." He was talking as if he were still discussing the weather.  
  
"That is true."  
  
Still frozen in the traffic, Ralph Banks watched and listened to the drama that was playing out before his eyes, courtesy now of Lady Penelope's hair clip.  
  
The man folded his arms and leant against the side of the car, still chatting unconcernedly. His presence made it impossible for either of them to open the doors on one side and he could have escaped back into the van by the time they had got out of the other.  
  
"I suppose you are wondering why I did it."  
  
"The question had crossed our minds." Lady Penelope was playing it as cool as he was.  
  
"Fame. It's that simple. I want my name to go down in the history books."  
  
"By hurting people?"  
  
"Sure. It's easier that way. Instant notoriety. Of course I wasn't going to give the game up, straight away. I wrote a letter to "The Times", explaining that I'd done it and giving my name as 'The Bachelor Bomber'. Snappy title don't you think?"  
  
"Why not try to help people instead?"  
  
"No fame in that. And no lasting recognition. I want to be like Lee Harvey Oswald, Jack the Ripper, Adolph Hitler. Instant recognition. Say those names and everyone knows who you're talking about and what they did."  
  
"The same can be said for International Rescue, Mother Teresa, Mahatma Ghandi, Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King. People who were peaceful and helped others."  
  
Parker turned his head away from the man as if he were inspecting the rear vision mirror. "Bonkers. He's stark raving bonkers." He said quietly.  
  
"They can be the most dangerous." Lady Penelope replied. "We had better ensure that he does not escape again." She covertly opened a panel and pushed a button.  
  
The man, sweeping his arms about and shouting as he enjoyed his vision of his own immortality, brushed against the Rolls Royce's side. What appeared to be a fleck of silver paint adhered itself to his clothes. Lady Penelope gave a little smile as a flickering light told her that the action had been carried out successfully.  
  
The man carried on ranting, unaware that he now carried a homing device. "Imagine, my name will be on everyone's lips. 'The Bachelor Bomber'.   
  
"You know," he swung back so that he was leaning right up against the window, staring directly at them, "I was going to bomb several sites before I gave up, install terror into the hearts of people all over Britain. But I don't need to now! Know why?" Lady Penelope and Parker shook their heads. "Cause it suddenly dawned on me, as I saw those International Rescue guys go back into the building. I could get better publicity by killing them. Don't you see? Good verses evil and evil triumphing!"  
  
'You didn't kill Mister Scott,' Parker thought, 'you've at least partially failed.'  
  
"The mighty, invincible, Good International Rescue, stopped, by me!" A speck of dust appeared further down the road. "Hello, we have company. So this is farewell, my lady." He pretended to doff a cap. "Be sure to tell your friends that you had the pleasure of meeting 'The Bachelor Bomber'. You be the toast of high society." With that, he was gone, running into the van and driving away.  
  
"After him Parker!" But the big Rolls Royce was already in motion.  
  
A voice came over the radio. "We can see you Lady Penelope. Keep sight of him till we catch up." Ralph Banks' car was now clearly visible behind them. "He'll swing when we catch him. One of those International Rescue chaps were killed."  
  
"Nei...No! That's terrible news!" For a moment even Lady Penelope was visibly shaken. She cut the radio connection to Colonel Banks and turned back to Parker. "Well now we have a personal reason for catching our 'friend'."  
  
"If H'I get my 'ands on 'im..." Parker started.  
  
"Now Parker, Virgil was right. We want justice, not revenge. Neil wouldn't want us to behave in any other way."  
  
"Yes M'lady."  
  
"However, that doesn't stop us from aiding justice's cause." She continued. "If he were to get a puncture..."  
  
"My that would be terrible." Parker grinned. A pair of crosshairs appeared on his monitor and he lined them up with the left rear wheel. A single shot fired from FAB1's radiator grill was all that was needed as with a bang the tire disintegrated.  
  
But it didn't faze the man at all.  
  
"'E's goin' faster! 'E'll kill 'imself."  
  
A shower of sparks streamed out from the damaged wheel, the van, listing badly started to weave all over the road. The left front wheel blew and the van swerved into a ditch, tumbling nose to tail along the grass verge.  
  
It came to a rest on its hood.  
  
FAB1 pulled up, closely followed by the car full of Secret Service men. They approached the drivers door cautiously.  
  
The van was empty.  
  
"Stone me! 'Ow'd 'e escape that?" Parker exclaimed.  
  
"Dashed if I know," Colonel Banks said, "But we've got to catch him. Look," he directed his comments at Parker, "you stay here. This is a young man's game." He set off after the other agents.  
  
"Cheek!" Parker exploded. "I'll give 'im 'young man's game.'"  
  
"Now Parker keep calm. After all Ralph doesn't know about your, er, talents. Besides we have no need to go rushing through the corn. We know exactly where our quarry is heading." She held up the homing device's receiver.  
  
Parker grinned. "E ain't got a chance with you on 'is tail, M'lady."  
  
"We can't let him get too much of a head start Parker, the device only has a small range." They set off in pursuit of their quarry.  
  
The signal led them to a farmhouse hidden in a valley. The sounds of the birds and the adjacent brook gave the scene an idyllic air, far removed from London, bombs and death.  
  
"You'd better do the introductions, Parker." Lady Penelope instructed. "He knows my voice."  
  
"Right you are M'lady." Parker strode over to the farmhouse door and gave three raps on the door. Lady Penelope stood half hidden behind him.  
  
The lady of the house answered the door. Parker tipped his chauffeurs hat to her. "H'excuse me madam, but our car 'as broken down and we was wondering if you would permit h'us to stay 'ere until the mechanic arrives."  
  
The lady was full of country charity. "Of course, com'on in. We can't have people sitting in their cars when our house is available.   
  
"It's almost like Piccadilly Station," she continued on conversationally as they followed her through the lounge. "We have another poor soul whose car's broken down already here. Makes you wonder how they make vehicles today." They emerged into the kitchen. "Have a seat."  
  
Two other people were already in the kitchen. "I'm Madge, this is my husband Bob," she indicated a slightly overweight man seated in a rocking chair, "this is the other gentleman I was telling you about."  
  
"Pleased to meet you." Lady Penelope was as gracious as ever. "I do hope we are not inconveniencing you."  
  
"Not at all," Madge hadn't noticed that her other house guest had stiffened perceptibly at the sight of the newcomers.  
  
"It's just that you never can tell when help might arrive. We noticed a van, upside down in the ditch, on our way here."  
  
"Really?" Bob sat up in interest. "It wasn't there earlier when I did my rounds. Could be that someone's hurt." He made to get up out of his chair.  
  
"Oh, no, the van is quite empty." Lady Penelope reassured him. "We checked. It appears that the occupant has fled." Her last comment was directed at the third man. "I'm sure that the authorities will be here shortly to catch up with him."  
  
The third man spoke. "What if he doesn't want to be caught?"  
  
Lady Penelope gave an airy wave of her hand, but she was watching him like a hawk. "Oh the authorities are quite marvellous and very efficient. To paraphrase the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, they always get their man."  
  
Madge was nodding her head enthusiastically. You're quite right," she agreed, "We have a very efficient local constabulary."  
  
"Of course, it may well be that they don't know about this van," Lady Penelope continued on. "I think it would be wise to let them know."  
  
"Yes, you're right." Madge agreed. "I'll go and ring straight away." She left the room to make the call from the phone in the hall."  
  
"If you'll excuse me," Bob levered himself up out of the rocking chair, "I'll just go check the out buildings. He may be hiding in there!" He exited through the back door.  
  
While they had been making what appeared to be idle chit chat, Lady Penelope and Parker had continued to keep an eye on their target. He was inching closer and closer towards the back door. He was about to follow Bob out when Parker grabbed him by the arm.  
  
"Why don't you stay and keep us company?" He offered with a sly grin.  
  
The other struggled to break free, but was surprised by the strength in Parker's grip.  
  
Lady Penelope walked over so she was standing beside him. "Dear me," she said, "you don't look at all well. Why don't you have a seat over here?" As she was speaking she took him by his other arm. With a look of mute surprise he collapsed into the proffered seat - unconscious.  
  
Lady Penelope replaced the stone in the ring that had administered the tranquillising injection. Just then Madge bustled in. "They're all busy on some other, oh..." She noticed the unconscious man. "Oh dear, what happened?"  
  
"He said he didn't feel well and passed out." Lady Penelope lied. "Parker, why don't you go see if our car has been, er, fixed. I'm sure that our friend would appreciate a ride to the, er, hospital in our Rolls Royce."  
  
"Very good M'Lady." Once again Parker tipped his hat to Madge and departed the house. He was back a short time later.  
  
"The car 'as been repaired, M'Lady. H'I have taken the liberty of driving it to the front door."  
  
"Well done Parker. Help me get our 'friend' into the seat."  
  
Bob stood up. "Excuse me but I can't stand by while a lady like you lifts a stranger. Let me help." He grabbed under the man's arms and assisted Parker.  
  
Outside Lady Penelope turned to the married couple. "You have been most kind. If you will excuse us, we will rush this, er, gentleman to where he will get the attention he deserves."  
  
As the pink Rolls Royce sped away down the driveway Bob whistled. "Phew. Did you see that car, six wheels and I'll bet she's got plenty of grunt. Wouldn't do any good to carry the pigs to market though."  
  
***** 


	33. Manhunt 4

Manhunt 4  
  
Scott had been sitting, running various phrases through his mind. It was no good. He couldn't put off calling base any longer. He stripped off his overall and went over to his locker where he had stored his pale blue sash. As he put it on he froze. Neil, in his haste to get changed, hadn't closed his locker door completely and his black sash peeped out.   
  
Scott picked up the sash and clutched it to his chest. He then turned and marched resolutely to the door.  
  
Outside, he was met by Virgil. "Are you okay? Tin-Tin said you'd been in there quite a while."  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just going to make the call now."  
  
"Well," Virgil looked uncomfortable, "We've made arrangements with the authorities. We can load th... hi... everything onto Thunderbird Two and then we're cleared to leave."  
  
"Right, then I'd better make this call."  
  
"You sure you don't want me to do it?"  
  
Scott looked Virgil in the eye. "Yeah, I'm sure." He walked over to Thunderbird One and disappeared inside.  
  
Virgil went in the opposite direction towards a waiting hearse.  
  
Inside Thunderbird One Scott sat at Mobile Control and wasting no time established a link with Thunderbird Five.   
  
John's face appeared on screen. "Scott, what's going on? Tin-Tin's been giving me the run around or not answering calls and the police radios are talking about another bomb and someone being dead!"  
  
Scott felt a twang of alarm. "You haven't said anything to Dad?"  
  
"No, I thought I'd better get my facts straight first."  
  
"Sorry John, we should've kept you up with the play. Things have been so confused down here. There was another bomb and Penny and Parker are after the bomber." He paused. "Neil was killed in the second explosion." His saw John's face go pale.  
  
"Was anyone else hurt?"  
  
"No, not seriously... Virgil's arranging to bring him home."   
  
For a moment neither of them spoke then "John, I'm going to have to tell Dad. Can you put me through?"  
  
"Yeah, sure." Before he disappeared from the screen John gave Scott a look of sympathy. This was not a task that he would what to do himself.  
  
Jeff appeared on the screen his face changing from interest to concern. "What's wrong son?"  
  
For some reason Scott found it impossible to speak. He'd rehearsed this speech so many times in his head and now he couldn't get the words out.   
  
He found his voice. "We've got a problem..." 'What a silly way of putting it. Go on say it. He knows something's wrong, probably knows what by the way I'm acting.' "He's dead, Dad."  
  
His father closed his eyes, what was he thinking, was he remembering other important people in his life who had been taken away just as swiftly, just as cruelly? A jumble of thoughts rushed through Scott's mind, reliving past tragedies, his maternal grandparents, his grandfather, his mother...  
  
When Jeff opened his eyes again, he uttered only one word. "Who?"  
  
'Who?' Scott thought. 'Haven't I told him already? I can't have. I've run through this so many times I can't tell the difference between what I've said and what I've thought.'  
  
He looked down. Still clutched tightly in his hand was Neil's sash. Scott brought it up to examine it closer. Black! Ironic under the circumstances.  
  
Scott realised that someone else had walked into the lounge. He heard the words "Have you seen my..." and realised that it was his Grandmother.  
  
"Mother, you'd better sit down..." Scott felt for his father having to break this terrible news. "There's been an accident."  
  
"Oh Jeff, not..."  
  
Although Scott couldn't see her face he could imagine her expression. He remembered it well from when his mother had died. Shock and surprise melded into one.  
  
Jeff's voice broke into his thoughts. "Scott! As soon as everything's sorted there, get everyone home."  
  
"Yes Dad."  
  
I know it's the last thing you'll all want to do, but I want a written report on what's happened from everyone."  
  
"Yes Dad."  
  
"Oh and Scott!"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Bring Alan and Tin-Tin home with you in Thunderbird One. They can go and get John as soon as they get back. At a time like this we should be all together."  
  
"FAB"  
  
Scott signed off. He was alerted to the sounds of someone entering his craft. It was Virgil.  
  
"Ready when you are Scott." He sounded tired.  
  
"Good. Dad wants us to leave A.S.A.P."  
  
"How'd he take it?"  
  
"You know Dad. If he was English he'd have a stiff upper lip. It was pretty much a shock though. Grandma came in while we were talking and he had to tell her.   
  
"Alan and Tin-Tin are to fly home with me. He said it was because he wanted to get John home straight away, but I have a feeling he was worried that I was going to crash Thunderbird One or something."  
  
"Good!"  
  
Scott looked at Virgil curiously. "Why do you say that?"  
  
"You've been through more than the rest of us and it shows. If any of us looked like you do at the moment you'd demand that we got some rest. We were just discussing how we were going to convince you to let someone else fly you home."  
  
"Oh you were, were you?" Scott pretended to be mildly affronted, "Well they've been ordered to accompany me, but I'M flying MY bird." He stood up. "How're you feelin' Virg.? You're looking shot too."  
  
Virgil shrugged. "I don't think it's really hit me yet. C'mon, lets get going."  
  
The rest of their team were waiting outside.  
  
"Everything okay?" Gordon asked.  
  
"Yeah. Father wants Alan and Tin-Tin to fly home with me so they can go get John. He also wants a full written report from everyone as soon as possible. If you want to you can make a start on the flight home." A black sedan pulled up, closely followed by a pink Rolls Royce. "Looks like we have company."  
  
Ralph Banks got out of his car and came striding over to the group. "Good you're still here. I know it's not much comfort but you will be glad to know that we've caught the blighter, thanks to this lady here." He acknowledged Lady Penelope. "Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. Saw the chap acting suspiciously and followed him. Helped us catch him several miles down the road."  
  
"That's good news," said Scott quietly.  
  
"He's admitted setting the bomb. Said he wanted 'infamy'. Guess he's going to get it."  
  
"If I may make a suggestion," Lady Penelope said gently, "perhaps in this case the Press would be good enough to not publish his name or his alias, out of respect for International Rescue. In my view, it would be the best punishment for him as it would mean that he has ultimately failed."  
  
"You could be right." Ralph Banks looked thoughtful. "If we can persuade the Press to go along with it. We could site national security or, as you say, out of respect for all that you chaps have done." He indicated Scott and the others. "Of course he'll still be looking at a stiff sentence. Wilfully endangering life, detonating an explosive device in a public place, murder!" Tin-Tin stifled a sob. "Sorry my dear, tactless of me."   
  
"Well we're glad that he's not going to be able to hurt anyone else," Scott said, "but if you will excuse us we're under instruction to get back to base straight away."  
  
"Of course..."  
  
"And if you will excuse me too, Ralph," Lady Penelope interrupted, "I've received word that some friends of mine have recently had some bad news, I must leave immediately to offer what support I can." She gave the briefest of glances to Scott who nodded almost imperceptibly.  
  
"Goodbye," Scott shook Colonel Banks' hand, "thanks for all you've done." He entered Thunderbird One, followed by Alan and Tin-Tin. Lady Penelope and Colonel Banks retreated to their cars.  
  
"I'm sorry you've got to run off," Colonel Banks was saying, "I was rather hoping that we could have dinner and catch up on old times. But as you say, you've got friends who need you and I've never known you to let a friend down."  
  
"Goodbye Ralph, and I hope the Press agree to co-operate."  
  
"So do I. You never can tell with those chaps. They'll either think it's the biggest scoop ever or else they'll play ball." He turned to Parker. "Thanks for your help old man. Couldn't have done it without you."  
  
Once again Lady Penelope wished him goodbye and slid into her car. As the Rolls Royce sped away she could here Parker grumbling. "'Old Man'! Give me the chance and I'll show him 'Old Man'!"  
  
"Now Parker, at least Ralph did thank you."  
  
"Sorry M'Lady. Where to now?"  
  
"The airport! I believe Jeff may require a little moral support at this time." 


	34. Funeral

Funeral  
  
Everything had been finalised. Neil's wish had been to be cremated and have his ashes scattered of the Tarawera Ranges that he'd loved tramping when he was younger. The New Zealand Government had given permission for the International Rescue craft to fly at low altitude in their airspace and had undertaken to ensure that prying eyes would be kept at bay.  
  
Scott was on his way to the lounge when he almost bumped into Virgil. Both men were dressed in their blue International Rescue uniforms and had a black armband around their left arms.  
  
"All set?" Scott asked.  
  
"Yeah, just waiting on the others. There's going to be a crowd on board today."  
  
"Yeah, well, you know Dad's flying with me."  
  
"Yeah... I've just got to get something from my room." Virgil turned abruptly and walked away.  
  
Scott wandered into the lounge. His father was the only one there, seated, as usual, at his desk. He was staring at a pile of papers in his hand. Scott glanced at them. They were their reports on the incident. He could tell by the indecipherable but artistic signature that the top one was Virgil's.  
  
Jeff looked up. "Have you read any of the others reports?" he asked.  
  
"No. We kept pretty much to ourselves while we were writing them up."  
  
"This one of Virgil's..." Jeff frowned. ' I haven't had time to read it fully. "Its first words are, 'It was my fault. What do you think he means by that?"  
  
Scott paused for thought. "Probably that it was his decision not to keep you informed after the second bomb. You don't want to worry about that at the moment. Are you ready to go?"  
  
"Yes." Jeff stood up and laid the sheets of paper on the desk in front of him. "We'd better get this over and done with." Scott stood to one side to allow his father past. After Jeff had left the room he went back to the desk and removed the top report, hiding it in an umbrella stand. He'd have a word with Virgil before he'd let his father read it.  
  
*****  
  
From this high up the New Zealand bush looked like a sea of olive green. It merged with a cloudless blue sky, the horizon undulating to the rhythm of the hills. Thunderbirds One and Two hovered like two harriers keeping an eye out for unsuspecting prey. In the distance jets of the Royal New Zealand Airforce kept a protective watch on the little ceremony that was occurring.  
  
In Thunderbird Two Virgil kept the great plane steady as his family and friends stood at the cabin windows. Grandma, John, Gordon and Brains on one side of the console. Alan, Tin-Tin, Kyrano, Lady Penelope and Parker on the other.  
  
Over in Thunderbird One Scott was sitting at his controls. Beside him was a cardboard container the size of a small loaf of bread. Its lid was loose. Behind him Jeff Tracy stood, one arm resting on the back of Scott's seat, the other holding Neil's black sash. His voice could be clearly heard in both craft.  
  
"...And so we remember Neil, our friend, our colleague, and even though not in blood, a much loved member of our family. We are grateful for the time that we shared with him, grateful for the skills he shared with us, glad that we knew him and sorry to have lost him. We will now have a moments silence."  
  
The airwaves were silent for a few moments and then Jeff laid his hand on Scott's shoulder. Scott pulled a lever and a trapdoor slid away from underneath the cardboard container. It fell, its contents pouring out over the landscape, the ash scattering to the four winds. His earthly remains may have gone, the container would rot and become part of the New Zealand ecosystem, but they would always remember Neil... 


	35. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
Virgil was sitting at the white baby grand piano. The tune he was playing was Mozart's requiem. He had hoped that the task would keep his mind off dark thoughts, but the music developed a mechanical quality as his mind wondered. The rest of the family sat, listening and not listening, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.  
  
At one end of the room was situated a new piece of furniture, simple in its design but filled with meaning. It was a pedestal topped with a locked glass cabinet. In it, resting on a piece of black cloth, was Neil's Pounamu pendant. Wrapped up within the folds of the cloth, so as it's real significance was hidden to those who did not know, was Neil's black sash.  
  
Alan was the first to break the silence. "I still can't believe that he's gone!"  
  
Someone grunted an assent but the rest kept their funeral silence.  
  
Alan persisted, "Still there's one good thing..."  
  
Seven pairs of eyes turned towards him, willing him not to go on. Virgil kept his eyes glued to the piano keyboard.  
  
"...that we should be grateful for..."  
  
"Don't say it!" Scott warned him.  
  
"At least it wasn't a member of the family."  
  
Virgil quietly rose from the keyboard and walked out of the room.  
  
Scott looked darkly at his youngest brother. "I can't believe you just said that."  
  
Alan tried to defend himself. "Well, you can't tell me that the thought hasn't crossed your mind." He drew back slightly as Scott rose out of his chair. But Scott moved to follow Virgil out of the door.  
  
"Why don't you grow up?" Scott growled as he walked past into the bright sunlight.  
  
He followed the bleached steps down to the patio beside the pool and looked around. A figure was sitting on the beach and he made his way over towards it.  
  
Virgil didn't look up as Scott approached; he sat staring out over the ocean.  
  
Scott sat down beside him. "That Alan," he tried to sound light-hearted and didn't quite succeed, "has all the subtlety of a charging bull."   
  
"He's right though isn't he?" Virgil's voice had a far off quality to it. "We are glad it wasn't one of us. And we both know that it should have been me, not him, buried under that pile of rubble. If I hadn't got some far fetched notion..."  
  
"Now come on!" Scott admonished him. "We've been at this game long enough to know that there are risks. In fact we've been jolly lucky that something serious hasn't happened before this. And part of the reason WHY we've been so lucky is that we've trusted our instincts as well as our intellects."   
  
Virgil angrily threw a stone down the beach and stood up. "If I hadn't chickened out..." he started walking along the beach. Scott started to follow him.  
  
"You didn't chicken out. If you remember it was my decision to send Neil in instead of you. I decided that your 'hunch' had some merit, and I decided that you would be of more use operating from outside the building. Do you think I haven't already beaten myself up over that decision? I sent Neil on that death sentence. I could have just as easily sent Alan or Gordon, or insisted that you go. It was my decision and I made it because I trusted your instincts. In one sense I was right."  
  
"I should have gone anyway. Neil didn't have the experience necessary. Perhaps if I had have gone I would have been able to react differently and escape."  
  
"I doubt it. He didn't have much of a chance, not when he was trying to save that other man. You would have done the same, I know it, and so would I if I had have been in the right place. Every rescue we undertake is a gamble, and this time Neil lost."  
  
Virgil was quiet for a time as he mulled over what had been said. When he spoke next he sounded more relaxed, more like his normal self. "It was weird Scott. Something inside me was saying 'don't go.' I would have, if I had to, but I just felt... no, I KNEW, that to go would be a mistake." He gave a quiet chuckle. "Maybe my guardian angel was watching over me. Or Mother."  
  
Scott smiled. "I often think that there's something keeping an eye on us, or else how else would we manage to achieve such miracles." They had reached the end of the beach and sat down on some rocks, worn smooth by centuries of tidal action. "How many times have we leapt out of the way of falling rubble or ducked flames because our instincts told us it was the right thing to do?"  
  
"It doesn't always work that way. You know the first time I met Neil? On that job in Wellington? It was because of instinct that I crushed my hand, and spent several weeks in plaster afterwards."  
  
"I think Alan's instincts need fine tuning. His instinct is to speak first and then think."  
  
Virgil smiled at this comment. "Except when on a job. He seems to instinctively mature when it's necessary. As soon as the jobs over..."  
  
"He's a kid again." Scott finished the sentence.  
  
There was a moment of silence. A gull wheeled above them.  
  
"Do you think Father will hire anyone else?" Virgil asked.  
  
"I don't know. If he does it won't be for a while, I'd say he's a bit gun shy at the moment."  
  
They sat reflectively for a few moments longer, then Scott spoke.  
  
"You know your report."  
  
"Mmm."  
  
"Dad hasn't read it yet. Only the first line. I told him that you were blaming yourself for not letting him know we had trouble."  
  
"Well that's partially true."  
  
"Is it still partially true?"  
  
Virgil thought for a moment. "No. I guess not. You're right. It could have happened to any of us."  
  
"Good! I've hidden it, so if you want to say that you grabbed it to make a few alterations..."  
  
Virgil smiled. "Thanks. I might just do that."  
  
They continued to sit, talking, enjoying the sun on their backs, being glad to be alive, until a shout from down the beach disturbed them.  
  
"Hey, you guys," it was Gordon. "Your dinners getting cold."  
  
"Dinner!" Scott and Virgil looked at each other.  
  
"I'm starving." Scott said.  
  
"You always are."  
  
"Race you!"  
  
"Last one there helps with the dishes."  
  
"Hey!" Scott was suddenly handicapped by Virgil pushing him onto the sand. "Why, you..." he was quickly back onto his feet and racing along the beach. His slightly longer stride meant that he was gaining on his brother, until the soft sand gave way under his feet and he went flying heels over head. His shout of surprise, brought Virgil to a stop.  
  
"My instincts tell me that you need some help." Virgil had a big grin on his face. He extended his hand to help Scott up. "You okay?"  
  
"Yep, and twice as hungry."  
  
"Tell you what, we'll call it a draw and both help clear the dishes."  
  
"Tell YOU what," Scott had a better idea, "we'll call it a draw and make Alan clear the dishes."  
  
"Deal."  
  
They were almost at the house when Virgil turned to his brother.  
  
"Scott."  
  
"Yeah, Virg."  
  
"You know I'm behind you 100% for every decision you make on a rescue."  
  
Scott clapped him on the back. "Yeah, I know."  
  
"And thanks for talking to me just then. I needed it."  
  
"No problem. It helped me too. I guess I had some unresolved issues I needed to sort out myself. Guess I needed to talk as well, so I should thank you too."  
  
They wandered back into the house, following a trail of inviting smells. Roast pork, apple sauce, carrots, potatoes, minted peas, and for desert, apple pie.  
  
A lazy breeze danced around the palm trees. A pair of gulls squabbled over a morsel of fish and then flapped away lazily over the ocean. The waves lapped the white sands. Overhead the blue sky was devoid of clouds.  
  
The pool was still. There was no one diving in, practising their swimming strokes or lazing by its turquoise edge.   
  
The steps leading up into the house were almost blinding white as the midday sun reflected off them, but there was no one about to be dazzled by them.  
  
All was calm.  
The end 


End file.
